


the butterfly that dreams of death

by masamune11



Series: we are all butterflies on different stages [1]
Category: Persona 3, Persona 4, Persona Series, Persona | Revelations Persona
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Crossover, Gen, Heavy Theory, Mention of P2:EP team, Naoya Toudou as emissary of order or super-ego
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-02-09 23:44:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2002590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masamune11/pseuds/masamune11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The half part of Minato Arisato's life was painted with grey, silence, and emptiness. He was broken before SEES came and mended him back to who he was: a bright boy with heart so big that he could find forgiveness even at the face of the greatest offenders. But Minato could not recall memories of the time before those grey days. In fact, he believed there were gaps in in his memories.</p><p>A certain Emperor knew, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I dreamt of a butterfly

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Angevon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angevon/gifts), [strangestquiet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangestquiet/gifts), [SkylaDoragono](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkylaDoragono/gifts).



> This fic is supposed to be drabblish. But then, my imagination just goes on and on and on... and before I realize it... the word count reached 9k. So I decide to split it into... two chapters, I think.
> 
> It's really been a while for since I actually write something in freaking English. Honestly, seeing people here so dedicated in writing makes me want to start again and say, "go to hell, insecurity, let's just man up and do it!!" Still. Please be gentle with the flame? Eeeep.
> 
> Oh, and I completely blame this fic on the long hours of replaying P3P and reading "Persona: Be True to Your Mind" Manga. ...the latter, because I gave up on the game, so I took a shortcut instead.
> 
> Enjoy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which his life was not as simple as it seemed. ...As if the life of the Great Seal isn't complicated enough.

Even before the fiasco of his high school life, Minato Arisato knew that his early years had been vibrant and full of life. He could still remember excitement brewing inside of his being when school started, or the warmth that belonged to his family as they cherish him like a treasure sent from heaven. He could also vividly remember the life that was so long ago, a part of him so distant that it might have been his other life instead of his childhood, that he was a child—an innocent soul—in the midst of society, living happily with his normal family.

Sometimes he could not remember the later years after the death of his parents; everything felt like blur of shades and grey and _emptiness._ He did not remember exactly when indifference had turned his world into shades of grey. Perhaps he changed when every time a person looked at him, there would be traces of pity, and with that attitude, made him feel more comfortable alone than together. He was, after all, a shy person at heart.

Maybe it was such quality that worsened his apathy.

To say that his life after the turning point of his life is silent, however, contradicted the music that had hummed inside of him even before his happy family ended. His eyes might see greys, his feelings denied thrill, but the music clung like grime; a memento of his past self, now designated only to blast and burn as he tried to remind himself of the _adventure_ and the _fear._ But the music inside him slowly faded, and he was never sure what caused it in the first place. Instead, he was left to fill himself with music that were not his own (hence the loud earphones), as long as they provided other flavors, other sense, other _personalities, other sensations_ —anything to purge this blank feeling.

Of all songs, [Gymnopédie](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hDKhbt6Giqc) never failed to stir something inside him—a song that blended spitefully beautiful with impressions of blue (...or was it yellow? He cannot recall) butterfly wings, and still felt _right but empty._ It was a flutter of hopeful thing in the onslaught of coming storm.

As death silently crept behind them (he and his team; he was never alone in this), however, Minato began to remember of those sensations—the one he had lost, the meaning of being a lively child of eight years old—like a warmth grace of sunlight in the middle of cloudy days. Along with that sensation came sliver flutter of butterfly wings, but the memory beyond that remained amiss; trying to remember was like grasping fallen leafs in flowing water.

He decided to ignore it for the time being. They still had death to deal with.

* * *

It was January 20 during the dark hour that he felt the sensation intensified.

Not in a weird sense; for Minato, it was more like stronger—but still subtle enough to be missed—flutter of butterfly wings, similar to what he had experienced ever since the year started. The feeling also came with several snapshots of him and his family and various things about himself... and other people. There were also impressions of times when he played with his friends or seeing masks and playing taps.

His mind continued to wander, trying to figure whatever this feeling means. It went on frequently enough that his friends got worried. He noticed, of course, so that every time they cast a long glance at him, Minato would simply smile and say that he was fine. His friends would naturally ask again, and Minato would reply back with either teasing smirks (to the girls, of whom they replied back with interesting expressions) or simply replayed his words (to the boys, because only girls deserve _that_ ). Most would nod, some would actually pester him back (Yukari is a perfect example of that). But Minato never missed the unsaid questions of his fellow shadow fighters either; _how are you? Are you okay? We're scared, but so were you, right?_

_No one can stop an immortal goddess, right?_

When they got back to their own chores, Minato gritted his teeth in frustration. He was not going to let his world reverted to _greys and empty_ anymore. He was ready to fight tooth and nail to defend it (his _school_ , his _friends_ , his _new family,_ and his **bonds** ).

* * *

"You doing okay bro?”

Of all persons, Minato was surprised that Junpei was the first to ask his condition. To make matters worse, he was the one initiating the discussion in the first place, though Minato greatly valued his concern. But in a class where one’s teacher could jinx you to be a plant in the next life, it would be better to not act on it at all. Minato let a small nod, though, and let his best friend knew that he’s okay. Junpei grinned back.

“Man, I just wish the class would end sooner, you know? Why do we even have to learn magic, here? I mean, we did it so frequently that I thought we should earn credits in his class or something.”

Minato managed to hide his snort; always count on the magician to make the lightest joke out of terrible situation.

“But seriously dude, are you _really_ okay?”

Minato did not reply as quick, since he thought Ekoda’s attention was still on him (he did fall asleep during their previous session, really). When he was sure that they were clear, Minato whispered, “just a feeling I have. Need some times to sort things together.”

“…simply said, you are daydreaming.”

Minato sighed in exasperation. “It’s not as simple as that, Junpei.”

“Whoa-whoa, I got it, it’s important for you. Sorry, sorry,” he quickly interjected, “I thought you are still worried with… you know…” Junpei scratched his head, a little bit unsure and worried himself. But when one was faced with the truth that death will descend on them in the last day of January, perhaps it was normal to have such expression.

“I guess there is no other way that to beat Nyx down, so you'll have plenty of time to daydream,” Junpei finally continued, which made Minato want to yell and protest, because _there is no way he’s doing this just for the sake of daydreaming._ Junpei seemed to read his thoughts, though.

“Kidding, dude. Invincible or not, we're gonna beat her and seize the day like heroes do.”

Minato blinked at the response and smiled; It was always refreshing to see this side of Junpei, rather than the pessimism shroud by light-hearted comedy—an attempt to stave off his sense of insecurity (and he still could not believe Junpei to actually have that issue towards _himself_ , of all things). Optimism always suited Junpei better than jealousy, even though he could sense the fear and doubt still lingered lightly. But that's the point of being friends and comrade-in arms, wasn’t it? Wasn't it to support each other during this crisis and hold on to sliver of hope, even when there was none?

The whole despairing situation was okay for him, really, because he was not alone to _put on a brave face as time marched on._

* * *

The images in his dreams were getting more vivid as judgment day approached, but it was still near impossible to piece together and link each image to another. Minato was sure of one thing, though: these images were of his memories after the death of his parents—after Death happened. His own unfamiliarity to the situation, however, deeply unsettled him.

Minato was pretty sure that there were images of masks and game. He could hear children chanting as they played the game—and among those voices, he could hear his own. But in between the song, one word stuck in him like a sore bruise and it did not make any sense.

How in the world a group of kids knew anything about _Persona?_

Why did he have no recollection about this _until now?_ Was this part of the consequence that he must endure for keeping death inside of him for so long? Was Ryoji still playing with him even after the turning point of their (he and the team's) life?

And so, on the 25th hour of January 28th, Minato laid on his bed and uneasily let the dark hour rolled. Every second of it was intolerable, with images of his vision getting more lucid and a familiar sense of dread haunting his thoughts like plague. But then, as he closed his eyes to try calming himself, he was drowned in the mutters of his persona. The Fool were muttering the loudest in his head ( _Susano-O, no need to hack your sword around... Loki, stop freezing everything...)_ but even that did not drown the gentle plucks of lyre. And of all songs, his favorite persona actually plucked the notes of Gymnopédie in perfect harmony.

The subtle flutters of butterfly wings in his heart returned at the right moment, which was oddly comforting, so he let it resonate with gentle tune of music inside him.

Minato let out a sigh of relief and drifted to sleep.

* * *

His latest dreams felt so surreal and realistic at the same time. There, he was just a boy, still naive and thrilled over an adventure, because _Minato was not alone_ (and this fact, despite he was in a dream, surprised him most). Three of his best friends are with him, forming a circle along. Before long, they started singing.

“ _Master Persona, Master Persona, please come to us!_ ”

He walked counterclockwise, twice.

“ _Master Persona, Master Persona, please come to us!_ ”

He felt a tap on his shoulder, and Minato turned and saw a cheerful glint of silver in those eyes and that mop of hair. That boy was a junior, the littlest of them all, and the one most thrilled with their endeavor. Excitement—that same feeling when he was with his family—resurfaced once more. So Minato walked, completing the circle, and shouted-

“ _Master Persona, Master Persona, please come to us!_ ”

Four different voices resounded, one belonged to him, another belonged to that silver-haired boy, and the other two... he could not recall the other two. But the most important part was after the summoning; it was supposed to show him... something. But for a moment, nothing happened... that is, until he felt the air chilled.

That was when everything went awry.

Yellow wisps of light suddenly flashed in, surrounding each of them in a sphere. Panic quickly welled inside his gut, so Minato let a high-pitched scream, never minding the fact that he should be better than this, because _he's the one seeking adventure_.

His scream continued, out of fear and dread, because those wisps quickly changed into thousand butterflies, then monstrous hands binding him to the ground, before reverting back to harmless balls of light. It did not hurt, but something inside him _feared_ of something that he could not comprehend, like meeting a real boogie man.

So Minato closed his eyes and ears, wishing for this problem to go away, cursing himself as to why he decided to play this game in the first place.

The next thing he knew, Minato fell to the ground and remembered nothing else—

—but then he wake up to the kiss of morning sunlight and chirps of birds. He was too numb to think of anything, as memories of his dream kept on replaying in his head. Butterfly. Masks. _Personae._

It was exhausting, but time never waited, and his daily life must go on.

Minato ignored his unsettled feeling for the rest of the day.

* * *

The dreams kept on repeating in the last days of January, leaving him mostly restless and tired. He fell asleep during classes a lot, sometimes missing Junpei’s plea for help when the teachers threw in some hard questions. By the end of the class, the Magician would pester him and whine, to which Minato only shrugged and drifted off. Later, Junpei would joke about him being such a lazy ass, so different compared to his first impression in the school. Minato was too tired to care, but he chuckled along anyway.

Fuuka noticed the drastic changes as well, and he could sense that she was trying her best to cheer him (sometimes he found some cookies in his shoe, and judging from the crispiness and texture… it was definitely Fuuka’s creation).

But the one who amazed him most was the youngest of them all.

Ken Amada was just a kid despite his mature( _ish_ ) upbringing; kids always had that curious glint whenever something out-of-sorts happened. In Ken’s case, such curiosity was meticulously shrouded by rational thinking that is clearly beyond his age. It made Minato want to laugh and cry at the same time, because despite how _endearing_ it could be, it was also the result of exposing him in a world too young for children to know. But they were all children who should have been laughing together with other children... instead of facing the dark.

Those eyes had been staring at him since sat on the sofa… still with the same glint.

Minato sighed, “You have been awfully quiet tonight.”

Ken blinked. There was a slight hesitation when he began speaking, “Senpai, there is something I need to tell you.”

The blue-haired boy blinked rather curiously. “Well then, shoot.”

Ken seemed to fidget. Minato bet that Koromaru might even sense his hesitance (it’s just that awful), so he shrugged again and smiled. “You know you’re free to talk about anything to me, even if it’s embarrassing,” he gave the boy a teasing smirk. _Anything to stop you staring at me_ , he added silently.

Ken still eyed him, a little bit unsure, but finally started speaking, “I know the other senpai have said this, but I think you need to rest a bit more.”

Minato sighed. _This again… If only they knew the other half of my problem is not even related to the end of the world..._

“I mean, have you seen yourself on the mirror? Senpai… you look like a zombie,” the young boy added and fidgeted again, “I know we are facing the most impossible challenge ahead… but I don't think wearing yourself out will help anyone at all. And everyone is worried.”

Minato could even sense the unsaid words: _I am worried._ He still kept his silence, though, because Ken did not seem eager to stop.

“I know… that we have facing harder challenges than before. But senpai, just because you are our leader does not mean you should take all the burden alone,” he was so determined that Minato did not have the heart to flippantly say that he is okay—because _he was not, and everybody could see that_.

Ken continued to stare at him, expecting satisfactory answer. Minato sighed and lowered his head. “I just need more sleep. All the adrenaline and expectation kept me awake,” he finally said, omitting completely about his past dreams. Better to keep that to him. “Thanks for your concern, though, but I think a few good sleeps for the rest of the week would fix my problem. Don’t be so worried.”

Ken still glanced at him oddly, and for a moment, Minato wondered whether he gave the boy less credit than he deserved. But Ken eventually relented and nodded.

“Just to remind you, Minato-senpai, you will have to let us know if anything happens to you. I mean, after all that has happened, of all things that you have given to us, it’s fair for us to return the favor.” Ken huffed. “...I want to return the favor, for letting me join the team—for treating me no less than an official member.”

Minato looked back at Ken with a blank face, though something in his being churned. Did this boy think that it was ever him who gave to everyone? Had the others thought the same thing as this boy? _But they were the ones who dispelled him of_ greys _and_ empty _and_ **apathy** _inside of_ him _._ They were his savior from black hole of grief and stagnancy. He could battle thousand shadows to repay them, and it would _never be enough_.

Minato let the blank mask slipped back into a carefree expression and spoke, "thank you, Ken. But let me tell you one thing..." Minato carefully studied the boy again, noticing how composed he was and let out an earnest smile, "you don't take from friends, Ken. You give them something, and you receive something in return, but never expecting it in the first place. You all have given me many things... and it's enough."

He watched the expression of his young friend changed, as though Minato was growing a second head. The blue-haired teen laughed, "Don’t think much about that. Just remember that you're here because you're an ally. A friend. There's no reason for us to treat you less than this. I thought you know this by now?"

"But I just want to let you know..." he mumbled, clearly embarrassed. "...alright then. I think that's... all.  I'm going back to my room."

Minato nodded and watched the boy went away, most probably back to his room to do his homework. Or maybe he would train just like any other nights previously inside his own room to waste his own anxiety. Or do some distractions given their last operation will commence in 4 days; anything to relieve his anxiety.

_Friends don't take. Friends give... and receive._

He brushed several strands of his hair, which obstructed his vision, and sagged onto the living room sofa. Inside him, Orpheus still played the same song over and over, still trying to soothe his other self for the untruth that he has spouted. After all, wasn't his reluctance to share his later burden proof enough that he does not value what his friends had given him?

* * *

It was January 30th when he woke up in the middle of the night and screamed of rage and fear. The first thing that he saw was green and pale and dead, to which his mind registered that it was still in the middle of Dark Hour.

It did not stop the scream, though.

The first one who forcefully opened the door and rushed to his side was Akihiko, shaking him, trying to dispel him from whatever horror he had seen. Eventually, his scream subsided, though his breathing remained shallow as if he had been running nonstop.

"Feeling a bit better?"

When Minato looked at Akihiko's worried glance, he managed to siphon his remaining broken composure.

"I... I'm alright. I think. It was just a bad... dream," Minato sighed heavily as he massaged the bridge of his nose. Even after minutes, he could not slow down his own frantic heartbeat.

Akihiko grimaced, "well that's... I thought you're being attacked." He muttered something about shadow and stand, "wait here, I'll fetch you a drink."

Minato did not even protest; his mind was still trying to comprehend what he saw... and heard. Mostly heard, because even though the same dream returned, the one he experienced was more extended. Previously, the dream stopped when all faded to black. But his current one extended to resounding voice of children in pain, mechanical whirls, and voices so dark that it chilled his inside.

The childish song still lingered in his mind, as did unfamiliar words that were not his own in the last part of the dream. For him, it spoke volumes, because—

_I am thou, thou art I..._

_I cometh from the sea of thy soul..._

_Thou who held adventure within thee,_

_But led astray by doubt and fear,_

_Thine life is not to be,_

_Thine end begins here._

—that voice was supposed to be _Orpheus_ , but _it was not him._ The screeching of wheels between his joints are gruff and chaotic, and the voice was too dark to be his other self's.

 _Calm down. Freaking out over a dream word not help you in anyway, Minato. Calm. The fuck. Down._ Minato sighed heavily and closed his eyes as he tried breathing slowly again. He focused himself to the gentle hum of Orpheus' gentle hum that had accompanied him lately. Minato sighed in relief; it was there, though shrouded by his own panic and fear. The blue-haired young man eventually concentrated to the beat, feeling relaxed by the seconds.

Slowly, he opened his eyes again. The green tint of Dark Hour met his vision. It dawned to him that the day past this hour would be their last test of resolve. And here he was, still deeply unsettled in the matters of subconscious. If they are to die tomorrow because of his lost sleep, well... tough luck.

The sound of tapping feet outside brought his attention to the door. Akihiko, true to his word, returned with a glass of water in tow and approached. "Here."

Minato gave a grateful nod and drank slowly until there's nothing left. He diligently put it on his bedside table. His senpai kept on staring at him as if Minato was going to roll over and collapse. He did not dare to break the silence between them either.

Minato noticed this, so he did the honor. "Sorry if I woke you up."

Akihiko blinked, "It's alright. I wasn't actually sleeping when the dark hour rolled in." He paused a bit, and for a moment, Minato thought that he had nothing more to add.

"You gave me quite a scare, though. I really thought that shadows compromised our defense... given the circumstances." He sighed.

Minato smirked, "Sorry to disappoint you, senpai, but there is no strong shadow here. Only me, poor me."

"...Are you trying to tease me or something?"

Minato raised an eyebrow, "well no one in this building was more eager to demolish strong shadows than you. I mean, who else train more than you for that purpose, senpai?" _Who else desires power to protect the people more than yourself?_

Akihiko chuckled, "well, I have to keep myself fit. Can't have myself slacking around when tomorrow is an important day..." he stopped, if only for a while. It was crystal clear that Akihiko did not want to touch this subject further... at least, not yet. Eventually, his eyes set again to the form of his leader and winced. "How long ago since you had decent sleep?"

If Akihiko was starting to get hell-bent on his own personal being, his tiredness must have shown in his face. Minato did not answer as soon as he was asked. His mind was still partially occupied with the whispers of his personas. _Friends give and receive._

_Do not reject._

Eventually, he sighed. The careful mask slowly fell, displaying a worn feature that caught Akihiko by surprise; their leader had always been charismatic and calm—the picture perfect for any field leader. But now, he was on his bed before him, so tired and weary, but still managed to push through.

If only Minato knew how Akihiko envied his persistence.

"Last week," Minato eventually muttered. "My sleep cycle has been disturbed since last week." Akihiko gaped.

"You haven't gotten any decent sleep since then?! Why didn't you tell us sooner?!"

...always trust Akihiko to mother him in Shinjiro's place.

Akihiko let a frustrated sigh and continued, "Have you considered that it might be related to stress?"

Minato just nodded, only to evade questions that might lead him to blubbering his dreams, one way or another. It's unsettling enough that the setting was too real to be true... and the last thing he needed was everybody looking at him funnily.

Akihiko raised an eyebrow. "Well, I suggest you relax yourself before you go to sleep. You know, drink warm milk, or take exercise to burn out energy. .. Anything that will make you relax."

"I know, Akihiko-senpai," he muttered, "I'll try to remember that tomorrow. Oh wait, tomorrow's judgment day."

"....Minato, I think your jokes become gloomier day by day."

Minato rolled his eyes, "you just don't have the humor, senpai."

"Hey, I resent that! Even I notice a joke when I hear one, and that's definitely cynical," he mumbled. Just when Minato was about to retort, the green tint inside his room faded. Lights returned; the Dark Hour had passed.

Minato noticed his senior's expression changed, from lighthearted to weary.

"Go to sleep, Minato. Take a school break if necessary. I doubt anyone would protest as you're as pale as a sheet," Akihiko said as he stood back. Minato pinched his forehead, trying to focus but failing. "Want me to watch over?"

Hearing that, Minato quickly glared at him, deadpanned. "Senpai, I'm just tired, not sick. You'll most likely bored yourself to death."

The silver-haired teen laughed, "If you say so." The silver-haired teen slowly stood, "I'll inform Mitsuru about this later, alright. Just take it easy for today."

With that, the teen left him alone in his room. The rest of his mind was still screaming for any rest, so he decided to lie back again. Orpheus was still playing the same song as before, but that alone was enough for him to relax and drift off into sleep.

* * *

When he opened his eyes once more, Minato was met with bluish sight of velvet room. The first thing he did was glancing straight at where Igor usually sit. But the long-nosed man was nowhere to be seen, nor the blond elevator attendant. Instead, sitting before him was an unrecognized man with a mask resembling butterfly wings which covered the upper half of his face. Even though he could not see the man's eyes behind that mask, Minato was very sure that he had been examining himself as though he was a piece of evidence.

Frankly, Minato did not feel at ease with this guy, despite having mostly normal appearance than Igor (he admitted that Igor's nose is _distinctive_ ), his presence was unsettling.

"Who are you and where is Igor?" It was a valid question, and at least it got him a reaction—a slight smile, but nothing else.

"Welcome yet again, child of man, to the Velvet Room," the man spoke calmly as he uncrossed his feet. Minato felt the serenity and calmness that enclosed him like a cocoon. While it did not speak of danger, it set his instinct off. "This is the second time we met each other. Let yourself at ease, as I mean you no harm."

For some reason, despite believing that he never encountered this man, Minato knew that it was truth. He let himself sagged onto his own sofa and stared at the man cautiously. "You have not answered my question yet."

He eyed the teen, clearly bemused. "I am Philemon, a being that exists in the border of consciousness and unconsciousness. As I explained before, we have met... though it would seem other forces had interfered with your memories."

Minato raised an eyebrow. Other forces, really? Did he mean Death… or someone else entirely? ...But it did not matter for now. "Does that make you Igor's accomplice?"

There was an amused chuckle, "in a sense, yes."

Minato bit his lips; his grey eyes were still locked on the figure before him. Why were the denizens of this room very cryptic at any moment? Did they not know that such attitude only promoted distrust and wariness towards their guests?

“Shall we look at the summary of your journey so far?”

The man moved his hand before Minato was about to comment further. A deck of tarot cards—the same one in Igor's possession—shuffled automatically on the table. Three of them floated over in downward position. Philemon made a flicking gesture, and the card to Minato’s left flipped, revealing The Tower in upright position.

“It would seem that you have faced arduous tests and hardship. You found challenges in every corner, yet what brought you to this intersection? What brings you fear so terrible that, now, it sets you back? Interesting.”

Minato’s eyes snapped back to Philemon, as though trying to decipher his intention. “You are talking about Ryoji and Nyx.”

The other man only glanced at him, devoid of emotion. “I have to admit that it is... an interesting turn of event. But now…” he flicked his hand once more. The middle card flipped, revealing The Hermit in reversed. “In hopes to find clarity, you search inside yourself. But in doing so, you push away everyone around you. Do you think you will gain clarity with this attitude? Do you think isolation will bring you _truth_?”

Philemon did not even let Minato’s tense reaction faze him and flicked the last card. The Emperor in upright position rested before him, and Minato could not help to think of authoritative Hidetoshi, who firstly refused to let go of control... until he realized that _control was not everything_.

Minato withdrew from his thoughts and looked at Philemon again. He noticed that something in the man’s gaze flickered in recognition, as if a hidden secret was revealed to him. “The Emperor. A solid resolution, or perhaps fate would bring you to meet an unexpected ally? Or will you finally hold the truth with iron grip and realize it without fear? I suppose it is for you to find out.”

The man in mask waved his hand once more, and at once, all the cards gather in circles, surrounding them like a barrier. The interior images of the cards glowed, obstructing the true image that should be in it. Uneasy silence descended between the two of them, though if one could look closely, Philemon was waiting the unsaid questions from the blue-haired teen.

“...why the sudden interest?”

Philemon did not answer, but the smug smirk that painted his face was answer enough. Minato clenched his teeth. “You heard me. If you claim that we have met before—and I assure you, we have _not_ —why contact me, spread several tarot cards, _reveal my fate,_ and _read my intention_ at all?”

Suddenly, he noticed that the gentle melody of Velvet Room stopped. The screeching sound of elevator faded, blending in with piano tunes that resemble vigorous music. It was [Boléro](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AqfJ4xG3JYg#t=460), he noticed for a moment, at a crescendo.

At the same moment, he smelled ozone in the air. Was he in danger?

“I come to remind you of many things, child of human,” he eventually replied. “Of a long-forgotten promise,” a flick of finger, and a card quickly leaped to Minato. Death stared back at him. “And, of the contract that you have signed,” another snap of finger, and one lone card flew right in front of the teen. An angel with trumpet; The Judgment _._

“The answer will be revealed to you in time, child of human. But not when you come here without your own volition. As we spoke here… time in your world marched on,” he smiled, “it never waits, but the denizens of this room shall be with you, until you have accomplished what you have to do… no matter how long.”

He could feel the ground shook as the elevator screeched and stopped. The song halted; the door remained close. Philemon’s words were getting hazier as his own vision slowly faded away, but he could make out his words.

“A piece of advice... remember your self, _Makoto Yuki_.”

He wanted to scream that  _it was not his name_ , but a familiar dread stopped him from uttering a single word and made him believed, even for a single moment, that  _he was never Minato Arisato_  to begin with.

The curtain fell; he remembered nothing else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Related songs to this fic are listed below:
> 
>   * [Gymnopédie - Erik Satie](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hDKhbt6Giqc)
>   * [Boléro - Maurice Ravel](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AqfJ4xG3JYg)
> 

> 
> FYI, Gymnopedie is one of theme song in the Velvet Room from P2IS... as far as I know.


	2. That butterfly isn't me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minato had lost something important and could not recall what was lost in the first place. Perhaps this stranger, who exclaimed that he has known MInato ever since he was still ten years old, held his truth.
> 
> Or he was led to some sort of swindling program and ended up in nowhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember what I said in the previous chapter that I promised a two-shot? I'm so... sorry to say that it might turn as three-shot. Let's just pray that no more plot bunnies would jump me by surprise, okay?

When he opened his eyes, he was met with orange tint... and brown. He also realized that his left hand felt heavy. Then it dawned on him that someone was gripping his hand so tightly that it actually _hurt_ to move. And the brown patch? It was actually Yukari's locks of hair.

...she was actually in his room, her head resting on his left leg while her hand gripped his own like a child. Perhaps she was terrified?

Minato turned his head to find the clock beside his table. Five in the evening already... which means he had seven hours to prepare for the inevitable.

"Hnh..."

Minato quickly turned his head to Yukari, who was slowly lifting her head and shaking her sleepiness. When she saw his careful face, however, the sleepiness was quickly forgotten and her expression contorted to rage, and then longing.

Sometimes he forgot that Yukari might have been the most expressive of them all.

"You idiot. We were all worried about you and then you just shut up and _sleep?_ " The grip on his hand tightened, enough to make him squeak. Yukari didn't even loosen her grip.

"Suits you right for not even telling." She glowered, "just because we're facing apocalypse does not mean you have to take the burden alone."

"Sorry to make you guys worry?" He yelped, "Now, could you please release my hand?" It was funny how he could handle being thrown over when fighting shadow, but not facing Yukari's wrath.

Yukari still sent him a death glare, before finally let a sigh of relief and released her grip. She also managed to move away and sit in his study-chair. “Ugh, I can’t believe you convinced me to open up and smile, but you did this anyway,” she shook her head dejectedly and crossed her hands.

But Minato’s attention was already on the horizon painted in red and yellow. Something about those two colors mix together beautifully, stirring old memories that felt cruel and saddening… but are also filled with hope and closure. Red was blood, and yellow was butterfly—

 _—silver was yu, black was mister condor, brown was mister cat, redwas **her** ,bluewas **himself**_ , _whatelse, **whatelse?**_

Each color ignited images that he could not remember, but waves of nostalgia that kept on ramming his psyche as if confirming the truth behind those images. He suddenly felt like having all of his personas screamed inside his head, trying to steal his attention.

— _yes,greywashim, **greywashim**_ **.**

“Minato? Hey, are you feeling alright?”

Minato blinked as he refocused himself to Yukari’s voice, of which the owner was staring at him worriedly. How many times would his friends give that look every time he’s having minor flashbacks, anyway?

“...I’m fine,” he said, though the words about _greys_ and _hims_ still resounded in him like an orchestra. His dread built up slowly with each word. “Let’s just… prepare for tonight’s operation.”

He did not miss the reluctant glance that Yukari gave him. But he pushed it aside, because his mind was now dominated with greys and yellow. He was sure that the former is very important... and it was related to him.

He shook his head; it was not the time and place for him to get distracted. They had death to contend with tonight.

* * *

It was Judgment Night.

Minato did not even need Fuuka to tell the tension in the air. Even as they gather in the operation room, the togetherness and determination, which were usually visible, were now practically shrouded.

Among them, Minato noticed that Fuuka looked the saddest of them all.

It was unsettling even for him, because Fuuka might be timid and shy, but sadness was not something that painted her expression ever so often. Others did not seem to notice much, though.

"Fuuka?"

She snapped back from her reverie and glanced at her caller. "Hm? Oh, Minato... I'm so glad you're back with us. We almost thought that..." Fuuka let out a heavy sigh.

Well, if Fuuka was so pressured that she could not even mask her weariness, things were probably pretty bad. As a leader, Minato knew this could not stay as is. Their operation would start in the next hours... and by then, everyone must be ready to face the impossible.

"Hey, you can see I'm alright now, right?" He gave her a small smile. Fuuka’s expression did not change. "Huh. Here I thought you're worried about me like the rest of others."

The exclamation was like a magic potion. Her weariness turned to something akin to embarrassment, "w-what? Minato, that's uncalled for. Of course I'm worried!" She sighed again, "...I'm just... I felt unease about tonight..."

She looked at everyone. Akihiko was with Ken and Junpei, seemingly in a discussion. Yukari and Aigis were with Koromaru as the former pet the dog fondly. Mitsuru was busy examining her weapon.

"I know... that we would run this operation knowing we might not return... but thinking about that makes me regretful. I should have used my time to be with ones I care about..." her lowered gaze then met Minato’s own. "It's... sad, you know? If we did not return tonight, no one would know our unsaid feelings. And whenever I think about that, I.."

Fuuka did not even want to finish her words.

Minato sighed again; the hum inside of him felt out of place with his resignation.

"I felt like that too, you know."

The admission was quiet, but it was enough for Fuuka to search her leader's face, which was clearly avoiding her.

"These last months were very important to me. Frankly, before meeting you guys, I'd have thought that my life would be stagnant. I thought, someday, you will all be faces that I would not recognize—only photos in graduation album."

He smiled softly; there was a hint of melancholy in his gaze. "But then, Dark Hour happens. I met you guys... and we lost someone precious as well." He clenched his fist at the thought of Shinjiro. "When that happened... truth to be told, I felt like that as well. I should have known him better, we should have talked more frequently, I should have known there were something between him and Ken. You guys entrust me as a leader, but I failed."

Fuuka’s expression was one of pity. "Oh, Minato..."

Minato shook his head, "but that's not the point. Fuuka... The old me wouldn't even care. Even if the world would end tonight, I wouldn't have given a damn, because—"

Minato held his breath, as though he was slapped in the face. The bitter smile that came forward surprised him. "—because at that time... I wished for the end as well."

"But now, I don't feel that way. Every one of you is special to me... because you all pulled me away from that grief. …It is enough reason for me to keep on fighting... so that we could make more memories. Even at the face of death, this feeling will not change. We fight because we want to be alive."

He let a small smile—something so rare that happened only once in a while, even between his friends.

"We fight for our right to express our unsaid feelings."

* * *

_Thou art I. Thou art hollow. I am grey. We are empty._

_Thou art death. Thou art rebirth._

_Thine journey started. Thine journey ended._

_Thou art filled. Thou art the world._

_No. Tidak. Nein._

_Thou art the universe._

* * *

When Minato stood and saw determination of his friends, he could not help but smile. A part of him wanted to cry knowing the possibility of leading them to death exists. The other side of him kept on maintaining his careful mask; leaders must not show fear, not during this final meeting.

Mitsuru started their operation with encouraging speech, like a charismatic leader she was. Minato might have been the field leader, but Mitsuru always had a way with words—she knew what words to choose to send her honest message that still inspired people. Perhaps it was the perks for living as an heir to one of the most influential business empire in Japan.

The words were heavy (because it's the truth), but even optimism sneaked into several words of encouragement. Minato did not miss any time Mitsuru would glance at him, as though he was the one symbolizing their hope of winning.

He always had that effect, didn't he?

So when Mitsuru finished her speech and the rest of the group members glanced at the golden gate with resolve, Minato stepped forward.

"Let's do this. Let's fight for our future."

_It is time to repay the gifts that you have all bestowed upon me._

* * *

Ryoji certainly was not kidding when he said he wouldn’t pull any punches.

Every offensive move that he made was executed to kill them in tactical steps. The first move was to disarm his ability, either with distractions, confusion technique, or even charms. The next step was usually to knock Yukari down, which fortunately did not happen quite so often. In a pinch, one of the squad members would heal her back up, and they went back to the usual formation… at least until Minato said otherwise.

Of course, everything went to hell seven feet deeper whenever Ryoji—no, _Nyx Avatar_ —exclaimed his revelations. They managed to overturn the table in every opportunity, until, for the thirteenth time, the Avatar stood again and uttered the last phrases that were meant for their Fall.

“The moment man devoured the fruit of knowledge, he sealed his fate... Entrusting his future to the cards, man clings to a dim hope. Yet, the Arcana is the means by which all is revealed… Beyond the beaten path lies the absolute end…”

The image of his enemy flickered, and Minato swore, for the briefest moment, that he could see the greys and white of _Orpheus_ staring at him, like a buried memory trying to come back to life. His buried dread and apathy… the feeling of emptiness that lied inside him waited… and waited…

But the spell broke. Just as soon as it came, the image vanished, the feelings subsided, and the fear of death came back like a hollow breeze from the void. A pair of black eyes stared at them, unpitying and endless.

“It matters not who you are... Death awaits you.”

* * *

He never felt so full in his seventeen years of life, nor had he thought of greeting the first day of February with vigor.

The first thing he did was literally jumping out from his bed and opened the door like a child welcoming Christmas Eve. After all, there was nothing more thrilling than having the world handed to him, safe and sound.

The hallway was empty, but then again, it was for the best. His friends were probably still asleep due to exhaustion after such hard battle. Screw school time; his friends deserve the long rest.

Grinning, he quickly got ready to face the new day.

* * *

_I… m… tho… Tho… art… I_

_We are… ……le_

_…e ar… …he …ni…rse_

_…_

* * *

It was the seventh day of February when he felt that everything was out of place, as though he forgot something crucial about his life. It greatly unsettled him in every single way, but it was more frustrating to have that feeling being slowly drained out until there was nothing except for a pang of emptiness. At the end of the day, he was left with lethargy and despair (if only that feeling of emptiness could be called as despair).

And now, all he knew was ‘ _we have school tomorrow’_ or _‘have you finished Ekoda’s assignment?’_ or _‘did you hear? There is a rumor that Risette would do a concert in the near future!'_ The daily life which he was part of but felt so... normal.

And of course, there were Junpei and Yukari. Even then, both of them were different from what he used to remember. He could see how Junpei’s smile wouldn't reach his eyes, as though someone had killed his puppy. When he mentioned that, his friend would laugh it out and called on a joke, but Minato stayed long enough to see his expression shifted into depression.

_…death did not take your precious one, did it?_

Yukari remained friendly, but there was hesitance whenever he talked with her, as if the intimacy of their friendship was broken in two weeks and she saw him like a stranger at her door. He never pointed that fact to the girl, out of politeness, in order to avoid deathlike-grip on his hand.

… _have we even held hands in the first place…?_

He did not really have particular impressions for the seniors who lived together with him. Akihiko-senpai usually went home early and hit the sack as soon as possible, probably too exhausted due to super-extreme training. But sometimes, Minato could hear the sound of punching bag being hit—a sure sign that the boxer was still awake. On some odd days, Minato wondered if Akihiko ever slept at all during midnight… because one time, his senior actually caught him on the hallway and directly asked of his sleeping quality. Of course Minato replied, a little confused about the question, that he'd been sleeping fine (he never told him that he had decent sleep but always woke up more tired than before he drifted to sleep). Akihiko would then look at him oddly, as though distrusting Minato’s answer, but he did not pursue the topic even further.

… _are we really so further apart? But why care at all, then?_

The youngest of them, Ken, was also the most silent and polite student in the door. Sometimes he wondered about the boy’s past; a person with such attitude must have a history (or _sob story_ , as Junpei put it). Usually, they would meet in the lounge, and Ken would greet him like a proper junior did, before excusing himself to his room. Minato would sometimes try to call him back, so that Ken could talk a little bit more about himself instead of being silent observer. Friends, after all, should give and receive.

… _but are we not just acquaintance…?_

Fuuka, the timid girl who stubbornly chose the independent dorm life rather than the comfortable rich one, was also one of those people who stared at him the most with melancholic gaze. But whenever their gaze met, the girl chose to break eye contact and walk away. It was weird, because _they were best friends._ In times when she was not so saddened, the quiet girl would talk to him about her goals to set up electronic club. That is great, he thought. Fuuka would then smile, but the sadness dimmed her happiness. When he asked her about it, Fuuka would simply tell him not to worry much about her. Minato stopped pursuing the issue altogether, but he did tell her that it is important to let the unsaid heard before it is too late.

_…I felt like we have gone through so much… that freedom… must not be taken for granted…_

Mitsuru always hung out near the faculty room, and Minato had no idea what was so important that she should be hanging _there_. Perhaps because she was both the student council president _and_ heir to the Kirijo business empire that it was important to be near the authority. But whenever he walked past her, the longing in her eyes felt like ice, as if she desired him to not just walk in and left without inspiring anyone. Did he not have such effect?

… _was I fit to lead…?_

The blond girl was the most mysterious person in the whole dorm. She was always within his line of vision in school, staring at him like a stalker. Perhaps her behavior was like Fuuka, except Fuuka was one of his best friends while this one… he could not decipher the intention of this blond girl. Every time they faced each other, the blond would quickly leave in a speed of a trek champion.

_...what are you so afraid of…?_

Sometimes he wondered how they could be under the same roof but be so far apart.

* * *

_I …m …ou. Th… a… I._

_… …m noth…ng. Thou …ere who…._

_…am fixed. Thou ar… broken._

_You are_ **broken.**

* * *

It was not despair that he felt when he woke up in twenty-seventh of February.

Minato felt his days passed like a blur of greys and emptiness, filled with nothing but faint pink (Yukari) and electric teal (Junpei). Why did he associate colors to these persons, even he did not know. But it helped him sift through the day, away from the lethargic feeling that had slowly crept upon him like nightmarish vines.

Like days before his life turned for the worst, Minato, dispirited and very much apathetic, took the route to Tatsumi Port Station, through the usual pathway. It was then when he heard a tune of lyre at the edge of his hearing, igniting a feeling that was so familiar that he closed his eyes. He wished to be swept away by this music, because this emptiness gnawed at his very soul.

He yearned to be filled.

"Hey there. What are you doing, standing alone there?"

Apparently... he was caught day dreaming by a stranger sitting on the bench. It was a young man, probably not much older than 25 years old. The man's sets of clothing were all wrong, or at least, it did not match the season at all. What kind of person would put up khaki pants, fisherman's shirt, a beach hat, and a guitar? The dark brown sunglasses did not help tone down his eccentricities at all. If anything, Minato tried his best to ignore that man and be on his way.

But one step away from this man, and the next thing he knew was silence. The song stopped dead, and he felt emptier than before. Minato stoically eyed the man, pondering his options; he could simply walk away and get on with his life (of greys and emptiness and apathy), or take the chance right there to search.

The man noticed and pulled down his sunglass a little bit, enough for Minato to know that this man had unnatural violet eyes. His presence reminded him vaguely of someone blue... velvety blue (since when had he been so dramatic?). But to Minato’s amazement, the man smiled almost fondly at him.

"…Minato? Minato Arisato? I should have known!" He exclaimed and pulled his hat away. His black hair quickly fell into places, framing the sharp oval face filled with nostalgia. Minato kept on his wary expression, but his mind was whirring to remember every face that he met. None of the image matched this man before him.

“Have we met somewhere?” Minato warily asked as he scanned this man once again from head to toe. The man only grinned, and for some reason, the music note that he heard instinctively went off-pitch.

“We’ve met, though I could understand if you don’t remember,” he replied, the grin slowly turned into a soft smile, “you were just ten years old after all… or was it eleven? It’s been so long that I can’t even recall.”

Perhaps the other man was still drowned in nostalgia, but Minato could not even find in his mind to care. He could not remember this man, nor could he associate him with a distinct color like Yukari… or Junpei.. _or the others_.

“…I am so sorry,” the apology was meant to be genuine, but it came out too flat to his own liking, “I still can’t remember. It is true that I spent at least another year after… my parent’s incidence before I moved out.”

A sigh. “Really? That’s a shame. You were so little, back then, together with that grey-haired boy… what was his name again? I was pretty sure it sounded like lightning…”

There it was again, an off-pitch in the middle of that beautiful tone, and Minato was so sure that he actually slipped out, “did you hear that?”

The man glanced back at him. “Hear what?” His expression was confused, but the violet glint of his eyes hid no surprise, as though the man knew what happened but refused to let Minato knew.

Instinctually, he knew that this man was hiding something.

The thought of that made him wanting to stay, pick up the puzzle pieces, and gather the facts. So Minato approached this unknown man and let out a polite smile. “…I am so sorry if I do not remember your name, _jiisan_ , but can we be reacquainted…?”

It was funny to see him cringed at the mention of that honorific and made a face. “First, don’t ever call me _jiisan_. Second? It’s Naoya Toudou.”

Minato heard another off-pitch note at the edge of his hearing, but somehow, now he could hear the whole song in harmony, forming the symphony of Erik Satie’s Gymnopédie.

* * *

 

The next day, he found Naoya on the same bench near Tatsumi Port Station.

Apparently, now the man had a sense of decency to wear casual white shirt and jeans. Plus, without the sunglass and hat, Naoya looked even younger than he once thought. The man could easily pass as a college student instead of an estranged hermit. Unlike the day before, Naoya was actually busy reading a thick book with teal hard cover. The man was so engrossed with that book that Minato almost decided to just walk past him and go back straight to the dorm.

Minato was not going to do that, though.

The day before, he could hear a classical melody humming inside of him. But what he failed to realize was the music only started whenever he could feel this man around, as though Naoya was controlling the volume only by being _there_. That did not even count the times when some of the notes would sound so off whenever Naoya said some things during their conversation. _Greys, reds, blues, blacks, masks, and friends_ —most of these words swayed the beautiful tone humming inside of him and threw him out of loop.

“How long are you going to stand there?”

Minato snapped out of his reverie and quickly glanced at Naoya… who had had chosen to put the blue book away and focused his attention to the blue-haired teen. Had he spaced out that long?

“…Sorry, I was thinking about… things,” he lamely replied, and then casually went to sit next to the young man.

Naoya let out an amused whistle, “really? Is it girl problems?”

“Of course not,” Minato retorted, as a faint feeling embarrassment slowly crept on to his face. Conversing with Naoya seemed to have that effect--the thrill of feeling emotion instead of emptiness. Perhaps he should talk with him more. “It was not important, really.”

“No more important than girls?” Naoya chuckled, “oooooh, you mean they’re not your type? So you prefer guys?”

 _‘…alright, this just goes from embarrassing to downright ridiculous_ ,’ he thought silently and deadpanned, “no, it’s not relationship problems. Why must we even talk about _my_ sexual identity?”

Naoya blinked and smiled. "You’re right. Let’s talk about something else, then, like what you remembered most about grey and black?”

Naoya spoke so swiftly that it caught Minato by surprise. He certainly was expecting something else, perhaps some light retort from that man, rather than such abstract question. Not only that, his head was pounding as the off-pitch notes made a buzz in his head. Minato quickly turned his face to the young man next to him with irritated face. But when he saw that solemn expression and piercing stare, Minato just knew in his gut that _Naoya knew and he was fucking testing him_.

Minato needed to play it cool— _to play dumb because no way this stranger knew whatever was happening inside his head._

“...what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Naoya still stared at him for several moments before averting his gaze altogether. His hand absent-mindedly picked on the blue book and played with its spine. “...nothing. It was a philosophical question, actually, but since you’re just a high-school student, I doubt you’ll understand.”

And just like that, they were back to pointless ramble. Minato wanted to huff in frustration, and it was weird, because since the first day of February, feeling something like this was just… tiring, even for him.

“Oh? Try me.”

Naoya chuckled, “if you insist. How could I refuse Minato- _chan’s_ request?” Again, Minato made a face, and Naoya could not withhold the laughter that had been building inside. “…Pft, stop that pissed face, you’ll upset the cats.”

The pierced man then opened the blue book, as though he was going to recite a poem. For some reasons, his gut feeling told him that he just crossed the line of ignorance and entered into the world which should have better remained forgotten, especially when his gaze lingered on the thick teal book that Naoya held.

When Naoya started to speak, he could feel part of himself focused.

“ _Once, I dreamt I was a butterfly,_ ” Naoya started, his expression turned from one of cheerful to sadness, “ _I forgot myself and knew only my happiness as a butterfly. Soon, I awoke, and I was myself again._ ”

It was Zhuangzi. Minato knew it was just a quote from Zhuangzi, but why every word that Naoya uttered sent chills down his thoughts and made every tune in his mind swaying warily? Why was he reminded with blacks and greys _and blues and reds and_ _what the hell is going on_ , _whydoeshishearthurt—_

 _“Did I dream that I was a butterfly?_ _Or do I now dream that I am a man? Yet there is a distinction between myself and the butterfly._ ” Naoya finally ended his recital, pulling a card from one of the pages and gently examined the card.

Minato, however, was already gripping his head. The music inside him had turned frantic, his heartbeat pounding, his head throbbing, but Naoya… _stupid Naoya who started this in the first place_ did not even make a move to calm him. But Minato saw that forlorn smile, mixed with guilt and nostalgia.

This man was never a stranger to him.  _But why couldn't he remember?_ _  
_

“You always like that poem the most, _Makoto_ ,” Naoya muttered, but that name was not his. It was a stranger’s name, so why Naoya addressed him as such? And why now when everything was spinning out of control.

He could see something blue glowing on Naoya’s hand… was it the card he picked before?

“But I supposed the poem suited you even then… and now,” the odd smile still remained, “after all that has happened, I guess returning what is yours to you is the least I could do.”

Naoya scooted closer, his hand reached out for Minato’s blue locks—a gesture of affection from an older brother to the younger—before the one which gripped the card went into his upper abdomen—

The music inside him went still, before going haywire.

He felt like screaming, but darkness did not even let his sound be heard.

* * *

Everything was dark… and then, there was light.

The first thing that he tried to know was not where he was, nor what happened before, but rather who he was. As his mind struggled to remember his own name, a frantic fear quickly rose from the base of his stomach. _Who was he? What was his name?_

_A piece of advice... remember yourself, Makoto Yuki._

…Was it his name? He... was… Makoto Yuki… wasn’t he?

At that realization, the light surrounding him slowly expanded, revealing a dark, spacey room with checkered tiles. The air was still, and vaguely… he could sense that he was the only person in the room. It also looked like there was no escape from this place… nor there were any places to go.

As though responding to his mere thought, a metallic gate materialized before him. Standing before it was a silver statue twice as tall as him, which resembled a gigantic metallic marionette. He also noted the stance that this statue had taken—it was protecting the gate from trespassers.

_Speak your name._

…Apparently, the statue also came with telepathic ability.

He gazed upon the statue, knowing that he wouldn’t go anywhere anyway, and took a deep breath. “My name is—”

Someone suddenly covered his mouth from behind.

“—?!”

His instinct took over, and the blue-haired teen quickly struggled to break free by hitting his captor on the gut. His attempt was quickly stopped, however, when said captor simply defended ( _he’s good)_ , and locked his movement using the rest of his limbs. The only part of his body that could move was his _head_. As much as he wanted to butt-head his captor, he simply could not afford additional pain to his head. So he cocked his head, trying to identify his captor.

Naoya Toudou glared back at him.

“Don’t—I repeat, _don’t_ you eventry speaking _that name_ here,” he growled indignantly, his violet eyes still locked on his own. “You are not ready for that truth.”

He was too rattled to even curse at his predicament and nodded. Naoya reluctantly released his grip, and he tried to regain his composure. Questions quickly piled up in his head ( _where is here, why is Naoya here, who is he, why can he not remember_ ), and there was only one person to ask.

“Naoya… Who am I?”

The vehemence that once crossed Naoya’s expression was quickly replaced by pain and sorrow. His dimmed violet eyes only compounded the effect (had Naoya’s eyes been that dim before?). However, Naoya managed to lighten up with a smile and finally answered, ”you are, first and foremost, Minato Arisato. You triumphed over death last month ago and are on borrowed time. For now, that is the most important truth you need."

Naoya’s words were like cold water on his hazy mind, snapping him to wakeful alertness. The effect did not stop there; he could feel some sort of fog being lift up from recesses of his mind. Images of him and his friends, the ones whose colors linger even when everything faded to grey, kept on coming to him in torrents: the first time they met, when they defeat the first Arcana Shadow, the one time they rescued one of their own, when more people join their crusade, when one of their own died...

...and the last, the one time when they faced death together.

In the face of such onslaught of feelings, Minato hunched over. In the midst of everything, he could feel Naoya’s steady grip on his shoulder, his anchor to the reality (if this room is part of reality at all).

"I... I...?!" Minato stuttered, too overwhelmed to think as memories of his forgotten later years passed. His heart hurt; everything hurt. Their battle was not a lie, but with only him as the witness who remembered, he could not go back to the way SEES once was. This one truth hurt him most because of its specific implication. His face turned to the black-haired teen, searching for support, for some semblance of logic and reason, because _all these feelings were too much_. "Naoya... I..."

Naoya managed another forlorn smile, though his next words were calming, "breathe, Minato. Just breathe and let it all sink in."

Minato eventually nodded and tried his best to relax by recalling the tunes that he used to hear. He remained on his place for a moment, before gaining some semblance of composure and stood on his own. Still shaken, he took a deep breath and looked at the man who reminded him of his life. Even then, his mind was filled with many questions. But somehow, Naoya could sense the questions brewing and shook his head. 

"No. No more questions. Your answers will come in time, and I will tell everything in my power and influence... but for now..." he pointed his hand to the statue, "Speak your name to the statue. There is another truth waiting for you. It is why I'm here."

Minato’s gaze lingered on Naoya’s expression for a moment. There was something in there, deeper than that sorrowful gaze.

Naoya nodded, giving sign for Minato to stop dilly-dallying and start moving. Minato wasted no moment and approached the statue. The air in his presence felt stale and unmoving, as if waiting for his answer.

"My name is Minato Arisato."

The statue before him slowly dissolved, its shards scattered away, reformed to a single card, and floated before him. _Orpheus_. Sometimes he wondered whether it was him who tried the hardest to reach him.

"Welcome back, my friend," he whispered and reached out to it. The card glowed gray for a moment, before disappearing completely. The hollow feeling at the back of his mind was finally filled. "So sorry for forgetting you."

The door before him opened. Behind him, Naoya stood, telling him that it was his choice to face it now; only Minato could make that decision for him.

Minato chose to confront the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have questions about Naoya and how in the world he could do that... perhaps you should sit tight for the last part. 
> 
> ~~But shoot your questions anyway~~.


	3. Let there be distinction between us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minato was ready to confront the truth, really. He just did not expect to be blown completely by it.
> 
> When he thought Ryoji's revelation was the plot-twist of his life, Naoya just needed to drop _this_ on his plate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gave up. Plot bunnies tackled me everywhere. But the good news is, we're nearing the conclusion of this story! I have an estimate that this story will end with the next chapter, this time for real. Bear with me!

If it wasn't for Naoya’s presence behind him, he would have thought the place beyond that door as a dream.

They found themselves in the playground of Naganaki Shrine. The winter air realistically pierced his lungs, yet he felt no pain; just subtle information like _it was cold outside, as cold as 16 degrees_. It avoided him, making hollow space for him to occupy. Naoya took the opportunity to step forward and leaned on the playhouse poles. His eyes sought around the playground, but Minato did not think he found it... whatever that is.

"...Come here," Naoya spoke, urging him to stand inside the playground area. "It's important for you to understand what happened in the past."

He nodded, trusting Naoya’s instruction and walked over. When he leaned towards the nearest pole and made himself comfortable, Minato eventually had the chance to ask, “What is this place?”

Instead of answering, Naoya gave him an amused smirk that made him want to jab him in the face because _stop being like a certain masked man who acted so high-and-mighty before me—_

“The nature of this world is similar to what you called the Velvet Room,” he replied, eventually. Minato glanced at that man, clearly amazed, because _if he knew Velvet Room, then he must be a Persona user_ —

Naoya snorted and glanced back at him, “well yes, I’m a Persona user.”

Minato stared back at him incredulously, “Did you just _read_ my _mind_?”

“You’re broadcasting,” and Minato gave a don’t-fuck-with-me look. Naoya sighed again and scratched his head, “I told you before, and this world resembles the Velvet Room. It is a reflection of your unconsciousness. You could call this place as the trash can for buried and repressed memories, although you could find important parts that were equally vital and important. When people forgot something, it didn’t mean the memory was gone; it was simply buried here.”

…well, at least Minato was not kidnapped to somewhere he did not know. But the other part of his question had yet to be answered. “That did not explain how you read my mind,” Minato still pressed on, but Naoya, again, snorted.

“Kid, you just have poor expressionless mask,” he calmly replied, to which Minato only glared; his expressionless façade is perfect, thank you. Who the hell was he to say otherwise?

“Now be quiet,” Naoya urged again, “There is something that you need to see.”

They waited for a moment... until he could hear voices from direction of the gate. Three kids emerged from the steps of stairs, and Minato’s eyes widened as he saw himself among them. He was being left behind from the other kids, one girl with brown hair and red eyes... and a boy, the littlest of them, with both silver hair and eyes. Both of them were cheering for him to hurry up, but his younger self refused to be deterred, though he could tell that his younger self was only his feeling; he was enjoying this as much as everybody else did.

"This was... I vaguely remember..." Minato took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving those children. "One year after the death of my parents, everything fell apart. It was hard to bond with people when they gave me pity looks. …heck, even if others were not like them, there are also those who feel so insecure that they step on me by rubbing that truth.”

He kept his gaze level, still watching over the children even though they’re just… memories. The children were playing together, it seemed, and despite his younger self’s adamancy, he was the one starting the jokes (or the insults, but the other seemed to take lightheartedly). The girl made funny face that made his younger self cracked a smile. The other boy only sighed, perhaps wondering how two kids older than him could be so childish. A smile slowly crept on his face as well.

"But those two... they were always there when I need them," he continued, his gaze followed those three as they played around and finally ran back to the stairs once more. "They were my friends, and I really believe those days would never end."

He turned to face Naoya again, but the expression that lingered on his face was still as sorrowful as before. A simple wooden door appeared next to him; Naoya was ready to step into the next room.

"Yes, you really enjoyed your time then,” he said, “but then, why did you not mention the other _one_ , Minato?" Naoya cryptically asked as he opened the door and stepped out.

Minato blinked at his question. Before he could reply, Naoya was already gone beyond that door. Biting his lips, Minato quickly followed suit, "Naoya, wait!"

He thought he saw a silhouette of a young boy with dark hair, standing near the holy tree when he stepped out of the room and closed the door.

* * *

The experience of stepping away from one pocket dimension to another felt akin to when he stepped into Tartarus’ floors. He was always met with a sensation of falling, though he did not exactly fell in the first place. When his foot really touched the ground, his psyche would readjust and gave him a sense of balance.

When the light dimmed from his view, he found himself standing in the middle of Tatsumi Port Station, on one of the busiest mornings. The place was bustling with people who were getting to work, going to school, or simply searching for entertainment. Which made finding Naoya harder.

“Well, damn,” his frustration slowly rose out again. It was funny that Naoya’s antics could evoke emotions which had remained locked since the last two weeks. He was not even a SEES member, nor a Persona user; come to think of it, Naoya’s appearance in his life was so conveniently decided that there should have been a connection… to any of his nightlife. After all, he was the one who appeared and returned part of his memories, and in turn, saved his life.

He shook his head; he knew that there was no time to ponder about Naoya’s connection with anything, not when said person was missing in this one room. In the end, the blue-haired teen decided to walk around the station to see if he could identify anyone he knew.

He stumbled upon his younger self, still the 10 year-old boy who wished for friends who could understand him. The boy was sitting on the bench, together with the young girl whom he saw in the previous room. Both of her hands were gripping his own, as though trying to comfort him—or perhaps, the girl was seeking comfort herself.

“Come on, Minato- _niisan_ , don’t shut me out… talk to me.”

He could swear his heart stopped beating for a moment. That title… it was only a small title. Hell, perhaps he was only hearing things, but that girl called him her _big brother_ and _it did not make sense_ because _he is the only child of Arisato family_. He had neither sisters nor brothers, and certainly, his memories of her were very vague compared to the silver-haired boy (he could make out his description more perfectly that her own, and that’s saying something).

Both of them did not notice him.

A deep breath; even Minato could see the childish sadness that had weighed his shoulder down. “…Sorry, Hamuko… I just…” a smile, “I feel tired with all those people trying to pull us apart. Why can’t they see that we’re happy together?”

“Because they’re stupid, that’s all!” She huffed indignantly, which earned her another smile. “Don’t worry; we just need to run away so that they can’t separate us.”

The younger Minato looked deadpanned, as if Hamuko had just spouted some nonsense that made him want to faceplant, “and then where do we go to, _imouto_?”

She grinned, and even the older Minato could feel the determination shining from her very being. “We are going to sneak into Yu-kun’s house during their move and ask them to be our guardians!”

Even the older Minato could not help but literally face-palm at the idea. His younger version, however, remained impassive; probably he knew better not to comment further.

“…No.”

By then, Hamuko had huffed indignantly. “W-whaaa?! What do you mean, no!” She exclaimed. “This is the perfect chance! That way, we could still be together _and_ get Yu as our brother!”

The stare turned even more intense, “but you like Yu,” he said, suppressing a smirk that almost formed on his lips as Hamuko’s already red cheeks turned a shade darker. “If he becomes our brother, you cannot marry him in the future.”

She made gestures, trying to quell her wail of panic only through her motor functions. In the end, she crossed her hands and glared at her brother. “Stupid _niisan_ , I d-don’t like him _that_ way!” she rebuked, “He’s just nice, okay?!”

Another amused smirk. “Yeah, you keep on saying that, and we’ll see five years later, okay?”

“Ugh, you’re the most insuf— insuffere— ”

“Insufferable smug ass?” His younger self added cheekily. …Minato certainly never remembered himself being _that_ vulgar.

The young girl, supposedly Hamuko Arisato, continued to fume and eventually threw her arms to the air, “Cheeky brother.”

Their bickering continued, but as time goes by, the voices of people drowned their voices. As the voices around him became less clear, so did the scenery surrounding him. Minato had to admit that he was confused. But then, another door—this one was white—showed up. Before everything dissolved to nothing, Minato quickly ran towards the door in panic and exit the room.

The knowledge of him having a _sister_ dominated most of his mind, even as he stepped onto the next room.

* * *

He found himself standing at Naganaki Shrine during noon. Naoya was still nowhere to be found.

It was probably not like him to lose his cool, but he felt it’s justified anyway; without his guide, Minato would probably wander in this rooms forever. The thought made him groaned in frustration, especially when he thought that he still had an important promise to keep.

“Damn it Naoya, where the hell are you!” he yelled, but of course, no one was there to reply his yell. He groaned in frustration and eventually sat on the bench where… Akinari used to. Ah, thinking about him always brought some form of melancholy in his mind; was he alright? Had his health improved, at all?

… _Ah,_ _my mind got sidetracked again... Focus, Minato_.

Again, he shook his head and scanned around. If he was lucky, there might be a hidden door just like before… or perhaps, he should have been able to summon one in the first place. After all, the whole pocket dimensions were practically reflections of his unconsciousness (or so he quotes Naoya). It was better to search around than do nothing.

It was then that he noticed a young boy with dark hair sitting under the tree… a young boy who surprised him once a month, in the dead of the night. This young boy should have been impossible in the past, yet when he lifted his face and revealed blue eyes that matched his own, it was as though Death came back from the dead, slapped him the face, and laughed, ‘ _idiot boy,_ I _will always be with you’_.

It was impossible, but he had known this boy as _Pharos_. Even then, he still wore the same loose prison-like shirt from the times of the dark hour. But something in his gut told him there was something wrong with this boy. Pharos should have his eerie smile that always set off his alertness. Instead, this boy stared past him without any signs of awareness.

Or maybe, he was simply staring at his younger self, right behind himself. Minato looked back, seeing a slack figure standing. His hands were on his pockets, his eyes glinted with curiosity despite his almost expressionless face (had he seemed that unemotional, even as a child?).

“Oh. I’ve never seen you around,” the young boy walked through him. Minato flinched in reflex and quickly stepped away to gain better view of this encounter. Never mind the fact that he felt out-of-place whenever someone did that to him, Minato was more interested about Pharos and himself.

The young boy with remained silent for a moment, though he did acknowledge the other’s presence. He could see his younger self lifting an eyebrow and walked over. “Oh, or maybe… are you lost?”

The boy now looked downcast. "I think I am... lost. And I can't seem to recall my name..."

Maybe it was within Minato's nature, but eventually, the younger version of him went closer and extended his hand—an invitation. "Well, that won't do, will it? Maybe we could search for your parents... or something. Or maybe you could live in the orphanage with me and my friends."

Pharos—no, the boy who resembled Pharos glanced at his extended hand, before reaching out. His eyes closed for a moment when their hands touched, as if important information had been passed through without the other teen knowing. It was only a moment, before his gaze shifted back to him. His eyes gave off no emotion as he whispered, “…you are my objective.”

The younger Minato blinked. “...I’m sorry, what?”

But the enigmatic boy only let out a smile, the same one that he flashed whenever Minato saw him during the dark hour. Perhaps it was just himself, but Minato could feel the sense of dread that had slowly set inside himself—with this boy as his beacon.

“No... It’s nothing," he replied back, thoughtfully, with a full smile on his face.

The younger Minato, though confused at first, only nodded, and flashed a smirk, "...for the time being, how shall I call you, then? Enigmatic-boy-with-blue-eyes is kinda mouthful, you know. How about Makoto?"

The boy looked stunned for a moment, as though this was the first time for him to choose. But in the end, he eventually replied, "I think... I'd like to be called that. Makoto... Makoto Yuki...?"

Another smile, "sure, Makoto. Let's search for your guardian, shall we—"

But the scene stopped abruptly, as if someone had pushed the pause button and halted the every movement. Minato was the exception, but he seemed to be frozen in motion as well, because his mind screamed _what the hell what's going on what is this._

His focus narrowed only to that sole name. It rang inside his head, along with Naoya’s warnings and Philemon’s cryptic words. Is this what they both mean? That for some reason, a young boy named Makoto Yuki was somehow related to Pharos?

He wondered what would have happened if he had uttered that name instead of his own, back in the first room.

The scene before him faded to black once more, much to his silent protests. Minato was left alone, before a blue door suddenly appeared in front of him. Just when he was about to enter, the door handle turned. The door turned, crying a soft hiss as the hinge revolved, and revealed a standing Naoya whose hand made a gesture to welcome him.

If it was any other moment, he would have pulled a taunt or two for this man. Yet, when he saw Naoya’s grim expression, even Minato chose to hold his horses.

“Come. There are other things that you have to see,” Naoya urged steely, his feature ready to leave Naganaki Shrine dimension at any moment, as though he was disregarding Minato’s importance in this journey. For that reason alone, Minato’s annoyance, which grew since the young man’s disappearance, was perfectly justified.

“Naoya wait—” he hurriedly followed suit and entered the door. He expected his feet would touch solid ground, but when they step on the floor and made a strong tapping sound, even Minato knew that he was going to enter a room with different nature compared to previous ones.

The same white light embraced him again as he went through the door.

* * *

 

When lights that had blinded him dissipated, his suspicion was confirmed; Minato was standing on a descending spiral staircase… of bluish light. Now he somewhat understood the reason why his steps make so much noise… or at least, _tried_ to understand. The only imminent source of light excluding the bluish glint came from above, only to shine for the abyss below. Right to his left were screen tiles twice his height plastered to the wall, showing the life he could not remember. But at least, now Naoya was in front of him, ready to guide him somewhere… as much as he seemed, at least.

Naoya had been standing a few steps ahead. He noticed that the other man wore a gray parka, of which he put his hands inside the pocket. Somehow, he seemed as though he had aged for a decade despite still retaining such a youthful face. Perhaps it was because of that violet glint in his eyes. Minato noticed that it was gone previously, but it seemed to show again in Naoya’s eyes.

The young man cocked his head, gesturing Minato to walk with him. Minato complied, though his eyes never left the screen tiles on his left. Images of his adventures with his friends replayed on the screen, showing their numerous times of explorations in Tartarus… or even times when he bonded with people. He saw the old couple from “Bookworms”, Chihiro and Hidetoshi from the Student council, Kenji and Yuko from the rack team, _Pharos and Ryoji_ —

His thoughts stopped on both of them, as did his steps. The screen before them paused on those two characters, still as ethereal as he remembered from several months ago.

Minato drew a long suffering-filled sigh, “…You have no idea how many questions I have after seeing all of these. You owe me answers, Naoya."

Naoya did not exactly reply quickly, but he shook his head. “Then let yourself speak for a moment,” he replied back, still in that cryptic tone. Minato stared at the other man incredulously, but retained his words as the other man waved his hand towards the screen. For a moment, the screen flickered, showing images that he did not remember—scenes of Naganaki shrine in midst of the night, four kids circling together and chanting, wisps of yellows and blacks as they were transported to somewhere else, and then… the endless black that showed in Thanatos’ eyes as it stared back at him.

A black door hung with grim foreboding before them.

“This is your truth.”

Minato did not need Naoya to tell him that fact. Even he could sense the dread beyond that door.

That did not stop him from stepping in.

* * *

He was back at the first room, except now he was not completely alone.

He could see the four children in his previous encounters, dazed in the still air. Makoto was standing mutely, away from the other children. His expression was one with empty joy—perhaps it was a reflection of death, Minato could not say. The other children were standing several feet away from the young boy, trying to make some distances.

He could see his younger self leaned on his sister, fatigue clearly overpowered him as though someone was siphoning away his own life. The silver-haired boy, whom he dubbed as no other than Yu, was standing in front of them protectively while pointing a golf stick (Minato could not even start where the kid gain that weapon) at the teal-haired boy.

"Why do you stand in my way," Makoto said with curiosity of a child. Power shimmered behind him, forming a silhouette of Thanatos. The dread that entailed his apparent appearance, however were soiled by rage and fear—something that Minato never felt even when he face Ryoji as the Nyx Avatar. He sensed something foul in the air, waiting for the right moment to strike.

"He is me," he muttered, his every word somehow emphasized the difference between deities and mortals, "and I am him. He has given me a name, so that mortals like you may comprehend. But hear me, mortals," He glanced back at the trio again, "I have come here to answer your call. I am here to bring the Fall. Minato Arisato needs to disappear, in order for Makoto Yuki to take over... and become the beacon of the night."

The younger Minato sagged even further in Hamuko's grip, making the young girl panicked. The other boy looked so pissed, he actually pointed out his golf stick in such condescending manner.

"You done spilling nonsense around?" If not for his childish voice, Yu's words would have been intimidating. "Of course I and Hamuko-neesan will not let you! You shall not have Minato-niisan, and that's final!"

He could feel the air shifted and becoming heavier, as it was pulled towards Yu. Bluish glow formed around him, as he opened his empty hand. Floating above his hand, Minato could see the Emperor card...

"Izanagi!!"

Then all hell broke loose.

The silver form of Yu's Persona flashed through at the teal-haired boy, his attacks only to be deflected by Thanatos' own. They kept on hitting, deflecting at one moment, casting spells and skills at another ( _ziomegidovorpalbladecleaverakukaja_ —), and evading whenever one of them was about to be hit. But with each moment and attack, the younger version of him dropped lower, to the point that even Hamuko was having hard time supporting his weight.

"Yu-kun, enough!" She screeched, but Izanagi kept on slashing at Thanatos' figure, full with hatred and anger. She could not bear to see her friends like this, not when they have so much to look forward to.

The brother in her hold fidgeted, trying to grab her arm and almost failing, if not for Hamuko's quick reach. And Minato, ever compassionate Minato despite all his silent demeanor, whispered words that should not make sense to her because _Minato don't speak like that you must survive you can’t stop here don’t sleep now—_

"Can you… stop them..." he smiled weakly, and heaved a smile, the last of his voice was already stolen by the night avatar, "Makoto... he just needs more friends... Yu-kun too... and Hamuko..."

Hamuko snapped her red eyes to him and glared, as if saying _no say no more you're not gonna die, I don't want you to die, don't leave me alone, don't go like mom and dad—_

The younger Minato blinked sleepily, "I'm glad that you took me in... with mom and dad... I'm glad you could call me your brother... I'm glad... I found family..." he breathed, "I'm so... glad..."

His hand finally went limp. Hamuko could not accept that.

"Niisan? Niisan....?" No response. Hamuko took a hitched breath, her hand desperately gripped his own, trying to search for a sign of life. She could ignore the shrill of laughter as Makoto laughed and laughed, power coursing into his being when Minato's life ebbed away, or even Yu's cry of outrage as the truth set in on his core.

She could ignore the noise, but the emptiness that gnawed in her being as she saw the limp form of her brother threatened to overwhelm her.

"Don't just—don't leave me... alone... Just— _ORPHEUS_!!"

There was a loud rumble as thousands of black butterflies rose from the checkered floor, devouring everything in the room—the lights, the noise, the air, everything else, until all Minato and Naoya could see was silhouette of silvery Orpheus—not his Orpheus, rather, the silvery vision of it that was not his own—as they were swallowed by darkness.

* * *

Minato woke up to find himself back in the Velvet Room. The seat where Igor used to sit was empty, and every door that appeared in the room was uncovered. The elevator had long since stopped moving, though the door was now closed, unlike the last time he fought Nyx.

At least he was alone, because his cheeks were wet, his heart hurt like nothing he ever felt, and everything felt terrible. The relaxing tone of this room did not even alleviate him of what he had gone through.

He pushed his hand to his face, rubbing his reddened face, trying to obtain even a sliver semblance of control. But in the end, tears kept on pouring. Sadness overwhelmed his senses as he replayed the memories before his demise.

It those empty days, he had a _sister_... and friends. Though one of them was actually the Harbinger of Death, Makoto— _Pharos_ —was among one of them. Why did he forget?

"Because you died."

He turned at the direction of the voice, a violet door which had opened and closed as Naoya Toudou entered. The young man stood on the edge for a moment, before slowly walked to him and took Igor's seat. Those violet eyes burnt brighter than he ever remembered.

Minato calmly set his gaze on him, though he was failing to look expressionless. He was too guilt-stricken for that. "Explain."

Naoya calmly gazed back at him, his right hand slowly picked the tarot cards on the table (he did not notice that at first) and as he slowly formed a spread. "It was not the first time you've known the Harbinger," he spoke quietly, his hand eventually stopped moving. Minato noticed that the young man had made a cross-spread. Naoya broke their gaze and flipped the center most card, revealing The World—the end of a journey.

“Even in your earlier days, you've had the latent potential to awake your persona,” he muttered, his hand finding the card in Minato's left and flipped it open; the skull of Death gleamed in bluish light. “That night, you should have survived. ...no, even that night shouldn’t happen in the first place. The Harbinger shouldn’t have gained consciousness if not for outside interference… that, compounded with the fact that your inner nature is Death,” he sighed and flipped the card again. To Minato’s surprise, the figure of Orpheus decorated the backside of the card.

Naoya only smiled, though just a little bit, “why are you so surprised? The Fool is reserved for those who are on a journey… who need guidance. At that time, there was no need for you to be the Fool. Death had always been your nature… just like how Emperor had been for your friend Yu.”

“But nevertheless,” his gaze quickly travelled back to Minato’s form, “You are destined for this, Minato, to counter the forces that may unbalance the world.” He said as, as if to emphasize the weight of his words, he pointed his finger to the blue-haired boy, straight at his heart.

Minato instinctually fidgeted; it was then he realized the bronze barbed wire to his wrists… no, they were chaining him everywhere. The wires themselves seemed to disperse in from nothing. Despite how tight it seemed, he was still able to move as though he was restrained in the first place. There was no pain that surged everywhere, _unlike when he faced humanity’s malice again and again and again and—_

 _The Seal…!_ He quickly stood straight from his seat, his hard stare still on Naoya. “I…” he gulped, panic quickly overcoming his sense, “I shouldn’t be _here_ , Naoya. I have to return—”

“We’re not finished, Minato,” Naoya ignored him and flipped another card. This time, it was the one on Minato’s right, showing the Fool in upright position. “As for Erebus, you shouldn’t be too worried. Others... are currently taking care of your problem, at least, for the time being.”

“...what do you mean—?!” just when he was about to say more, another wave of nausea hit him in succession with images of people he barely knew. He could draw out a woman’s face with blue hair, a man with short red hair, another woman with beauty mark near her right eye, and a short-haired man wearing purple round glass. All of them wore similar desperation to what he saw in his friends—the fear of facing death. But they kept on going, warding away attacks aimed to his place…

When he came through from his flashback, a sudden tiredness quickly set in. Minato sagged back to his seat and saw pity in Naoya’s gaze, as if his sudden change confirmed his knowledge. “I supposed once in a while, you’ll have those flashbacks… But enough of that,” he decisively pulled the Fool out from its place and throw it upwards.

“Your death was not supposed to happen,” he added, the Fool in the air spun and glowed. The room was soon encompassed by the white light, and then Minato could see silhouette of Makoto’s—Pharos, he meant; he would address this boy as Pharos from now on—limp form on the ground, his eyes unseeing. Blackened blood trickled from where Izanagi stabbed the boy, as real as steel could be. He saw Yu, who was at the end of his rope as he called back his own Persona. His expression contorted back from rage to fear and desperation as he quickly ran towards Hamuko. His sister. She was on the floor, red with blood that was her own—

—Minato did not need to be told that she’s _dying_.

“No. No!” he frantically glared at the man, because _he could  just drop everything about his past, tell him that he had a sister, but only to reveal that she’s_ dead _as well—_ “You cannot just tell me that she’s just _dead_ , you can’t—”

But Naoya only touched his lips, gesturing him to be quiet, although Minato was sure he could see the emotion that raged in those violet eyes. Just like that, Yu was already on her side, and he could hear Hamuko’s ragged whisper, “ _Hey… Phil-san sent you here, right… Naoya-niisan_?”

Her eyes glazed away from Yu’s face, and the scene hurt him most because she saw something else, a yellow butterfly in the midst of depression. Minato saw Yu’s face snapped at the butterfly’s direction, but he did not seem to notice it at all and continued to shake Hamuko, so that she would stay awake.

He could see the butterfly morphed into Naoya’s figure… except, there was a plain white mask with butterfly design covering his face.

“...you shouldn’t talk much, Hamuko-chan,” the masked man gently said, but even Minato could hear cracks in his words. At least, Minato could tell that this masked man was grieving.

“ _...I’m sorry… I couldn’t protect him…”_ Yu was on the verge of crying and hugged the young girl, perhaps he took her words for himself. The silver-haired boy should have felt the nausea with that much amount of blood surrounding him, yet he kept on gripping her body. Hamuko simply ignore the pain; she was too strained to even speak, yet she continued. _“I even promised… Phil-san… please tell him I’m sorry…”_

“You tell that yourself, okay?” he let out a long-suffering sigh, “you’ll be facing him yourself, after all…”

Hamuko only let a weak smile and Minato could swear the masked man actually sobbed. His hands were shaking, but even then, Hamuko mustered enough strength to gently touch his hand and let a weak nod. _It’s time,_ she meant to say—and she would have said that if she could speak another word for that man. But her strength was conserved for someone else…

“Y-yu…” she coughed, blood started trickling down her lips. Yu, hearing the words of his own senpai, eventually started crying. By then, still invisible to the silver-haired boy, masked Naoya already had his right hand glowing and inserted to her upper abdomen.

“Promise me… you won’t be… like that… anymore… okay…?” she managed to cup his cheek, “don’t… be so… angry… you’re a good… boy…”

“I promise,” he gripped her hand tightly, “I promise, Hamu-nee, so don’t leave me—”

But her hand fell limp, just at the same time as masked Naoya pulled a tarot card from her. The reddish glow of The Fool card floated softly on his palm, before dissipating completely. By then, only Yu’s howl could be heard, before another white light blinded him.

* * *

He half-expectantly  find the stoic Naoya across the table inside the Velvet Room, but when he came to, Minato saw him looked almost dispirited. But it did not matter for him, because anger suddenly filled up his senses as the realization that _this_ man _was the one who finally took away his sister’s life despite circumstances, and he never gave a damn to circumstances either, so why—_

“ _Explain further,”_ He growled, because he knew enough so far that whatever Naoya did, there must have been a meaning. For the first time, Naoya faltered under his gaze and let loose a deep breath.

“I fixed you,” he whispered and lifted up his face. Minato now could see the guilt that had hardened his expression, the weariness that had burdened him… and above all, the sadness for revealing the truth. “I fixed you because she could not go on.”

Minato clenched his teeth. _How dare he, to talk in riddles when he is the one responsible for her fate?!_ “Don’t give me such a cryptic answer, damn it!” He screamed, already losing his composure. The Velvet Room shook in his power (one that he did not notice), But Naoya only remorsefully shuddered.  His hand slowly flipped the nearest card to Minato, revealing The Devil. Temptation.

Minato could feel the truth hanging, and he knew, somehow, that should that truth be known, everything would change. Because even now, Naoya was changing as they spoke…

Finally, the dark-haired man took a deep breath.

“Hamuko Arisato was supposed to live the life of a Fool, and then fulfilled her supposed role as the Great Seal.”

It was funny how truth could offer the most painful slap in the face, because Naoya’s words, which sounded and felt as believable as _shit_ , effectively shut him up and sent him back to his seat. The implication of his words sunk into his thought, as quickly as water being drained in the sea. It left Minato dumbstruck, staring at the other man like a fool.

Naoya implied that he fixed him by using Hamuko’s life. But it could… _should not_ be, because—

—because if what Naoya told him were true, wouldn’t that make his life ( _his bonds, his friends, his adventures_ ) a lie?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Several art pieces that inspire this chapter are listed as follows:
> 
>   * [Lotus Juice - Fate is in our hands](http://fyeahpersonamusic.tumblr.com/post/92342146722/fyeahpersonamusic-fate-is-in-our-hands-fate)
>   * [Persona ~if~](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PU_Uwbur5Yk#t=37), originally posted on Nico Nico Douga, but in case you don't have access to that site, well...
>   * Bad Persona!! [ [Japanese](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kmkqggsU7uQ) | [English](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BsgbhvjhCIQ) ]
>   * [Persona 2: Eternal Punishment Opening Video PSP version](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R1bgbfEPUog)
> 

> 
> ~~Oh my god, I actually add more character tags to this fic, oh my god. And I'm not even sorry.~~


	4. Transformation of the physical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A journey's ending is a prelude to another beginning. The cycle goes on.
> 
> Minato just had to give his all until the real end.

He never noticed when, but the Velvet Room had stopped its music altogether, leaving an eerie instead of soothing sensation. The barbed wire that became his shackles in another plane suddenly felt so uncomfortable in his hand; those restrictions should have had his sister, and he was the one who should have died… or even become what Ryoji should be in the first place.

He felt his gut constricted. The thought that he could have been the very person who would endanger everyone else…

_…But thinking like that when you have to pay it with your sister’s life? Really, Minato?_

Eventually, Naoya broke the silence, “Whatever you’re thinking right now… don’t ever think that the bonds you have made with everyone were lies. What you felt after that incidence, the life you’ve led until now—all of them are true.”

For a moment, the seal stopped breathing; his reddened gray eyes glanced warily at Naoya, searching for any untruth, because Minato himself certainly did not see it that way. Wasn't this life supposed to be hers in the first place?

As though reading his thoughts, Naoya’s violet eyes gleamed, painfully, though his expression finally returned back to careful composure. Maybe he had sensed all the wrong things that changed inside this blue-haired man and chose to be silent to give him the time to ponder.

“I suppose you won’t understand if you don’t see it for yourself,” he eventually said quietly, his hand then twirled The Devil on its place. They were once again engulfed with white light, as the room changed again into the same checkered-floor room. Before them, they could see the masked Naoya… and his younger self, limp on the ground. The masked man scooted over and kneeled, whispering something in his ear, before summoning the same card that he had pulled away from his sister.

“I used her fate to save you... or should I say, to extend your life.” Naoya said as he watched the scene unfold. Minato was not so deaf to miss the cracks in his words, despite his own confusion. The more moments he spent with this man, the more he realized that Naoya hardly kept himself altogether. As the masked one put her card—her _fate_ —inside his own essence, Minato saw Naoya shrunk onto the sofa, which made him looked more vulnerable than ever.

“I did it, because yours were already set in motion…” Naoya heaved a long-suffering sigh. “You are destined to hinder the Harbinger’s advance, until she is ready. But _he_ foiled the plan.”

As if on Naoya’s cue, the air surrounding them weighed heavier. Minato knew enough that they were not alone in this room… and to prove his suspicion, a black butterfly flew by. The masked man seemed to freeze for a moment and quickly carried the unconscious boy away, before thousands of black butterfly surged out from where he previously stood. In the midst of the storm, Minato could make out a silhouette of a single… man.

The appearance of that man suddenly answered the odd vibe that he had sensed previously when he saw Thanatos and Pharos. There was nothing intimidating from his form—a man with dark short hair, with several locks swiped to the right side of his face, and pinstriped dark business suit. The smile on his face was filled with malice, while his eyes were literally as black as the night with yellow irises. The mere presence of that man seemed to deeply unsettle the masked Naoya.

“Well, well…" the figure eventually spoke, "I never thought there would be a day when Philemon really interferes…”

Naoya’s posture seemed to straighten, but Minato could tell he was growing more on edge. "You force his hand."

"Which is why he resorted to pawns, instead of taking the role of inspiring hierophant, now?" The dangerous man snorted. "Oh Naoya, still so naive. I have known him since the dawn of humanity, I know the games that he plays… and the plans that come with it…"

On his cue, his form flickered to something unrecognizable. The silhouette... resembled more like messy limbs that stemmed from a single source. Masked faces decorated the surface of each limb, with larger ones covering the biggest stump compared to the others. It was the head, Minato thought, because it was the only limb that pointed towards masked Naoya’s direction.

In that moment, Minato could even taste the bitter malice in his lips.

"I believe you have my pawn, Naoya-kun... It would be best to return him back to me," the wickedness in his voice reflected real evil. But the masked Naoya only looked at the monster defiantly as a sure sign of stubbornness.

"Over my dead body, Crawling Chaos."

The beast chuckled, but it came out as rumble of growls and hisses. The other nimble limbs began to slither, clearly prepared to strike given the condition. "Then, I shall take it from your corpse."

Without further warning, the beast quickly charged at the young man with, creating a short whip-slash using its limb. The masked man simply jumped to dodge it and landed several feet away. The attack, however, did not stop at that, as the other limbs turned their utmost attention completely at the young man. One whirled at him at him in a flash, while the other was sprouting fire. Both attacked in succession and crashed on Naoya in a single blow...

...Except, miraculously, masked Naoya had already jumped midair, still carrying his younger self on his shoulder; a giant figure holding a gigantic shield hovered over his body. In a quick movement, the figure quickly leaped towards the main limb and swung his sword upright. But before the blow could came, the beast’s other limb slashed at his persona’s torso, ripping it to slivers of blue and violet.

Minato saw the masked man staggered, but he waved his hand again. Another form hovered before him, still humanoid, this time making gestures as it summoned boulders of rock at the limbs. Yet, as the dust settled, the limbs quickly recovered and bashed at the form. The man reeled as the remains of his Persona scattered again in bluish-violet light.

The rest of the battle went downhill from there.

Minato saw how masked Naoya dodged every strike that was thrown towards him, but he never had the chance to retaliate. And every time he summoned his Personae, the beast would specifically target them, leaving him with nothing but his own physique to defend.

He also saw when Naoya slipped up, creating the perfect opportunity for the beast to cast a blast of tornado ( _was that Phanta Rei?_ ), just after he summoned his Persona: a green-skinned man wearing outrageous headpiece and holding a golden staff. But Naoya was too slow, and in the end, the figure moved to cover him in a reflex. Naoya’s screech ( _of despair, of loss, of damage, of hurt, of rage—_ Minato could name every negative emotion he knew, and not one of them would be enough to depict this emotion) was drowned in the midst of blue and violet that were remains of his Persona.

When the dust settled, the boy was already mask less; the remnants of his butterfly mask already pieces on the floor. Instead of violet eyes, he was met with brown eyes filled with despair… and fear. The emotion was so raw that Minato could even feel the bottomless feeling of _losing yourself to death and despair_.

Yet, even as he crumbled, the defiance in his eyes stayed. “I am not done yet,” he gasped, “you hear me, I’m not done _yet, damn you_ —!”

He stopped mid-sentence, and Minato held his breath as he saw the limb impaled him on his torso and tucked him to the air, before simply throwing him away. This time, there were no screams; only a loud thud and hisses of pain as Naoya sagged on the checkered floor. His body remained unmoving, but his desperate gaze still lingered at the boy lying helplessly across the room.

“Looks like I need not take him from your lifeless corpse after all,” the beast sneered and picked the boy up, as thousands of black butterflies reappeared and swirled around them, again. “Until next time, Philemon’s pawn.”

Minato was sure that the end was closing, with the Crawling Chaos evil laughter and Naoya’s feeble attempt to protect him, when the unthinkable happened. Just before they were about to disappear completely, his body, still in the beast’s crutch, glowed bluish. He could see his younger self opened his eyes as Thanatos’ form manifested and hovered over him, freeing him as he swung his sword at the beast’ grip. The beast howled, which made the perfect chance for Thanatos to sweep his other self away from his capture and moved over where Naoya lied.

The young man closed his eyes, a thousand of yellow butterflies sweeping into view, before engulfing everything. Naoya and Minato were already gone when they dispersed, leaving the beast alone, rampaging in the room between reality and dreams.

The scenery before them flickered back into the Velvet Room.

* * *

For one moment, Minato thought that Naoya was quite human, despite not having aged a day since then.

It was easy for him to put two-and-two together about this man, especially after watching the last projection; this man was related to Philemon, and Philemon was related to Igor. If anything, he could hazard a guess that Naoya Toudou was a denizen of this plane… though he felt that Naoya was more similar to Elizabeth, compared to Igor (no one could compete with that unbelievable nose).

The only difference between her and him was probably his eyes. Even as they changed hues, Minato could sense the humanity that still lingered there.

 _...But enough of that._ Minato managed to suppress the creeping irrational hatred that had been plaguing his mind for the rest of the last projection, regained his composure (his face should have been awful now), and finally asked, “That beast… who is he?”

Minato could feel those violet eyes narrowed, as if trying to refrain from throwing multiple Megidolaons with that stare. For a striking moment, he thought Naoya would do just that (and Minato wouldn’t give a damn, because he had stared death in the face and survived anyway, so there was really nothing to be afraid of). Instead, his eyes travelled back to the tarot spread before him while his right hand flipped open the card nearest to Minato.

“The Devil,” Naoya muttered, and Minato could not halt himself feeling the helplessness and stagnancy that arcana brought him. A bad omen, he once thought.

The young man certainly did not miss the tone of hatred in his voice as he said, "He’s the Devil, the cause of this misfortune, and that’s the only thing that you should know for now.”

“…But why did he have interest in me?”

A twitch. “I will not share to you any information which we could not even verify even now.”

He really wanted to hit this man now. “But he was trying to _kidnap me_. Surely you have some sort of explanation... a theory perhaps. Don’t I have a say in this?”

The glare remained, but Naoya eventually seemed to relent and brushed the bridge of his nose, muttering something like 'Philemon is going to kill me for this...' before straightening his posture. "That was the Crawling Chaos, an ancient being who wants to disrupt balance of the world—that’s the short version. You and your sister are supposed to play important part to prevent that calamity. He knows the plan, and tries to set fate in motion quicker—he managed to kill both of you, but we could only bring you alone. And now… you must bear the cross."

The explanation was too short and at some level, did not even delve into much detail. “…And I still believe you’re being too vague.”

Naoya lifted an eyebrow, his eyes glinting dangerously as annoyance quickly overrode his previously calm tone, “No, I’m trying to give you more by telling less.”

He did not miss the implicit message of 'don't fucking pursue the matter now', so he let Naoya move his hand to the last card that had yet to be revealed. The dark-haired man flipped it upwards.

The Chariot in upright position. Minato knew full well what this card represented; whenever that card appeared, he was reminded of _Kazushi_ and all the crap he got through, which left him a message about ‘never giving up no matter what happens’.

“Strife,” Minato muttered, and he could see how Naoya grimly nodded in confirmation. “But I thought the journey already ended. Hamuko’s fate…” he gritted his teeth; it was not the time for him to think that he was just a _substitute_ , “…had already been fulfilled.”

His shackles clinked, as if reminding Naoya of his position. But Naoya remained silent as traces of annoyance changed into something akin to wariness.

“Yes, it is true,” he replied, “that you have accomplished something even beyond Phil’s expectations—but this was just part of the beginning, Minato.”

Minato scowled, his restraints clinking noisily as he tried to make a point, “what could be more a hassle than fighting humanity’s death wish, I wonder?”

Naoya only let a tired smile, his eyes wandering away from Minato’s form altogether, as if he could understand what it felt to bear the weight of the world, alone.

“I could only imagine where you stand, Minato. I could only imagine…”

Naoya’s eyes wandered away, towards the door to his right with such longing. Despite all the spite that he held within, along with the tiredness that entailed, he could not let them out when he saw him, lost and still missing. His mind quickly tried to piece together what on Naoya’s mind, because he was supposed to be so expressive, so full of emotions despite his careful mask; they were only in a journey for a short while, but Minato saw enough of Naoya’s arrays of emotions to feel the hollow sensation that emanated from this man when his gaze wandered to that black door (its design was the same as the one that he entered about Hamuko's death), the emotion similar to what he used to have, because—

—that’s the same expression that he saw in his mirror every single day, before SEES came to his rescue and fixed his life. It was the same expression of a person who lost himself (for Minato, he lost his family, and now he learned that maybe it was also because he lost his fate—as cliché as it sounded—as well).

Naoya might have lost three, just from that encounter with the Crawling Chaos.

“...Did they come back to you?” Minato breathed, images of Naoya’s dispersing Personae still burned inside his mind, “...your other selves, I mean.”

He could see how Naoya’s lips turned and formed a bitter smile, “...Yes, though not in the manner you'd like to think. Those parts of me… if I want to really retrieve them back, I need to go on a journey."

There was a pause, and then a playful smirk, "But given my situation now... let’s just say I don’t want to sacrifice a single city just to retrieve my other selves.”

Minato made a face at Naoya’s feeble attempt to joke. The other man simply chuckled, his smile turned a less sullen, “Looking back, it was quite foolish for me to contend the devil himself. I should have ran when I got the chance, but in the end, you unknowingly saved my life…”

Minato could feel his gaze on him, again, his bitter smile turned into something akin to nostalgia—like he was not seeing him, but an entire different person. For some reason, he knew what that meant, and Minato sighed “…I’m not her, either, Naoya.”

A blink, a pause, and then another sigh.

“…I know,” his smile gentler than ever, “because, even if she was a true Fool, she couldn’t have summoned Thanatos to save my life. He reminded her too much of you… and she never wanted you to take the fight.”

Minato wanted to ask what he meant by that, but he restrained himself as he noticed the music in the room started to resume. This time, it was not the Gymnopédie, but rather, the usual song that played whenever he met with Igor and Elizabeth.

“And so… time marches on in the real world,” he said, taking the similar enigmatic tone that Igor used to use on him. His right hand picked up the half-faced butterfly mask—the same one that Philemon had—and put it back on his face. In that one peculiar moment, Minato thought for a moment that perhaps he never conversed with Naoya in the first place; only his smirk that convinced Minato otherwise. “It would be best for you to return.”

Even then, he could feel his consciousness fading away as his own body tugged for its host. How could he be the seal with unimaginable power to contend with humanity’s death wish but _still_ be whisked away so easily from this realm… it was just beyond him. But he managed to hold on to semblance of awareness, because there was one question that still needed answering.

“Why tell me all of this?”

Naoya only smiled, a hint of endearment, like a brother. For that one single moment, Minato actually believed that, _yes_ , Naoya was actually _looking out for him_.

"This is my way of saying thanks, kid. Besides, you earn the right to know the truth."

And everything faded to black, the melody of his soul carried his consciousness back to the world of living.

* * *

The red tinge of setting sun hurt his eyes even if they were closed in the first place.

He woke up to the sound of his headphone blaring, the words "burn my dread" reminded him of the last fight they had against death. The soft brown plafond was a sure sign that he was in his room, instead of in the Tatsumi Port Station. The soft texture of the bed under him... he was really on his own bed.

Minato quickly rose out of his bed and quickly sought for his cell phone (which was practically still in the right pocket of his trousers, the same place where he left it before he encountered Naoya), and looked closely at the date. Still 28th of February. Not a day had passed since his little trip down the lane, which was quite an impressive feat, since the last time something like this happened… well, he was knocked out cold for two days.

Then again, he never really understood the flow of time between that plane and the living, so he should not be really surprised.

Someone suddenly knocked on the door.

“Coming,” he shouted, carefully wearing his blank expression (he need to do this; he was too overwhelmed but could not break down right now), before quickly moving towards the door and greeted whomever it was standing there. He was not really amazed when he saw Aigis standing there; heck, he could even bet that she had her ammunitions ready to handle intruders, because he himself should not be at home during this hour.

Her optics widened, as though her theory was completely thrown out of window (and as he expected, her fingers were ready to shoot bullets), “Oh, I’m sorry for bothering you, Arisato-san. I thought you were an intruder.”

The degree of formality that she used hurt him the most, despite knowing that it was not really her fault. Before their final ascent to the top of Tartarus, he remembered Mitsuru’s words: they might not even remember the things that happened during the dark hour after it disappeared. But now, he hoped in the back of his mind that Aigis might remember parts of them. After all, surely anti-shadow units had recording capability installed in their optics.

She certainly crushed his hope.

“No,” he simply replied, carefully choosing his words. One more inconsistency, and her circuits might sniff that something is fishy. “I decided to come home early. It had been a tiring day.”

Her face still gave off no emotion, but Aigis eventually nodded. Since when had she been so hard for him to read? “Understood. Please forgive my intrusion, then Arisato-san… and have a good rest.”

She bowed a little too hastily, before quickly taking her leave. Minato stared at the empty spot in front of him, still incapable of doing anything; because _Aigis was just checking on him and all of her gestures were off,_ as if she was trying to avoid him altogether.

If it wasn’t for Mitsuru’s words echoing inside his head, he would have thought Aigis might have retained her memories.

The gears in his mind kept on spinning, even as he closed the door and went back to lie down on his bed. There were so many things to think over—about his past, the life that he had led, the strife that he might have to endure for the rest of eternity, about Naoya’s tale and the crawling chaos (how legit was his story anyway?), his friends and their story of dark hour, the promised day—that he eventually groaned and covered his eyes.

Eventually, Minato opened his eyes once again and looked at the calendar above him. The red circle marking March 5 of 2010 caught his eye; their promised day was almost at his doorstep.

A part of him wanted to believe that they will be there. Yet the other part of him—the one that occupied the previously empty part of his mind, lulling him with sweet Bolero again and again—whispered hopeless but _realistic_ things in his mind.

When he closed his eyes, all he could see was the silhouette of Messiah, but he noticed how his white garments had partially turned silver and how Orpheus’ lyre was on his left hand—a reminiscence of his previous life. His red eyes were blank, his mouth moved to form words, and Minato accept those words as true, even before he could hear the words.

* * *

_I am thou. Thou art I._

_Thou were broken. Thou art whole._

_I shall wait for thee,_

_at the end of this journey._

* * *

Waking up in the next day felt harder than he expected.

The morning of March 1st seemed so much hazier for him than the previous day. Perhaps it had something to do with how the chains inside his mind clinked into a link, coiling around the edge of his consciousness. A part of him felt the rumble of a beast, while the other felt the beatings so heavy that he wanted to just drop anywhere and sleep. Preferably, he would not wake up...

But that's just too grim.

At least the greys around him were gone; color returned to him with such vibrancy that his heart welled. Never would he experience such emptiness before, as long as this gift returned to him. He wished for this daily ( _colorfulcheerfulmusical—_ ) life to continue.

He could draw comfort from that knowledge alone.

* * *

He almost refused to wake up in the start of March 4th. The only thing that prevented him from skipping class at all was Naoya Toudou, who miraculously appeared inside his room _like Pharos did several full moons ago,_ sitting on his bed. The pity in his eyes was apparent, but his lips never failed to form a full smile. “School is starting, you lazy bump. Get up already.”

“...I won’t even ask how you appear out of nowhere into this room, but there is this thing called _courtesy_ ,” he muttered, noticing how the chain links in his mind continued to clunk and tightened around his consciousness; the seal readjusted constantly, because his full consciousness was still not back at the sea of souls. “And if you’re a decent guy altogether, you _should have knocked_ the door first before entering.”

He did not even have to look at Naoya to know that he was smiling; the sound of his snickers was proof enough. Minato eventually sat up and rubbed his eyes, so that he could focus on the man sitting on the side of his bed. “Why are you here in the first place, anyway?”

Naoya’s violet eyes glint uneasily as he summoned The Fool tarot card from his right hand—the same card that had appeared previously in his spread. “Remember our discussion about how your journey has just started? How conflicts were closing in on us all in the near future?”

Minato nodded in confirmation. Naoya closed his hand, the card turned into a wisp of yellow orb as he did so. Naoya still looked straight at Minato and handed the orb over to him, “that time is almost upon us. Please give this to one person whom you trust the most.”

Naoya could see the question flashed in Minato’s face even before he asked, to Minato’s bafflement, “It’s the Wild Card potential—or at least, a shard of it.”

Minato blinked at the man, as though he had grown a second head. “...since when have you given away free wild card abilities?”

Naoya chuckled and put the card on his hand anyway, “technically, it’s not really free, since it is fashioned from your own shards of power… or technically, _her_ power. I figure you wouldn't be using it any longer."

Minato so wanted to hit him right there and then for bringing up about Hamuko at this early morning—and he did, though it might have passed for a shove instead of a real punch. He noticed how his physical power had dwindled so much compared to when he first battled the first Full Moon Shadow.

It did not even faze Naoya at all, in fact, but concern quickly changed his expression; he was no genius, but even Naoya could see how bad the extent of his seal affected him. “Don’t give up now, not when the finish line is near,” he said and pointed his gaze to the calendar behind Minato.

“I know you feel so tired,” he paused for moment and sighed, “I know, for a fact, that staying like this for just a moment further weighs down your soul. But just do it. Just push until there’s nothing left, alright? Because this might be the last time… so make it count.”

Strangely, Minato felt that Naoya was talking more about himself. The way he avoided Minato’s look altogether was as though his mind was on another trip down the lane.

Not a moment after, Minato could feel the final link in the sea of souls—the link that bound his soul to the great seal—clunk into place, calling him back to where he should be. But Messiah kept on playing that tune, as if reminding him to go on and stay until the end. So Minato just nodded in reply.

He stood up, a smile on his face, after receiving his confirmation. “Well then. I’ll see you later.”

And just like that, the young man dispersed into wisps of yellow light and flew out of his room, forming a trail of miniature yellowish butterfly, his goodbye was a definite signal of how uncertain the future held.

* * *

March 5th— _the promised day_ —started with a knock on his door, and a stricken Aigis at his doorstep.

The knowledge that Aigis had always known made him smile, a relief in the midst of uncertainty (because the promise would be meaningless if no one remembered—and he  couldn’t bear that). She told him of how scared she was when they thought he was going far away, but Minato only shook his head and told her not to worry.

Aigis urged him to skip graduation speech—which already started anyway, so he did not feel particularly guilty about it—so they could wait for the others to come. She even pushed him to lie down on the seating, so that his head could lay on her lap, her affectionate face hovering over his own. He could see how her blue optics blurred by her restrained tears, and even then, her hand kept on patting his head gently—affectionately—as though he was the most precious treasure in the world.

Minato closed his eyes to feel it—and to fight the chains that called him back to his duty.

He could hear her confession of the things that she had learned during their time preventing the Fall. He knew every gaps that translated not only to sadness and hurt, but also relief and gratitude. Her words felt like a promise—a guarantee that one day, this would end, because _they’ll protect him, they will always protect him, no matter what fate he must bear._

“I want to be your strength.”

He opened his eyes sleepily, seeing how the dam was going to break anytime soon.

“I know I'm not the only one who can do this... but that's okay. My life will be worth living if it's for this reason... Thank you…”

His hand reached out to her face, despite feeling so tired… so beaten… and yet, it finally reached the mechanical face, wiping her tears away as they fell. Every brush was power, and every word he uttered next, a promise disguised with encouragement.

“Don’t cry, Aigis…”

But more droplets fell from those blue optics, and Minato could see how that face contorted with sorrow. The blue-haired teen could not bear to see it, so he gently rubbed her cheek—anything  to make her smile.

_Don't be sad... I will always be with all of you..._

And she did smile, despite her fallen tears, and reached to hold his hand. Even her grasp felt so surreal for him—the cold steel on his hand did not even make him flinch. Being able to feel at all brought him a measure of comfort.

"You're right. What am I doing? I understand now, so I should be happy..."

He could hear the sound of his friends in between the rustle of the wind, Aigis' whispers of her promise, and that soft flutter of butterfly wings inside of him in sync with Messiah's hum.

He was so tired... so... tired...

"Thank you for everything... You must be tired. Please get some rest... I'll stay right here with you..."

But he forced himself to smile with all his strength, because Aigis did so too despite her sorrow. So he silently nodded and closed his eyes, the quiet words of _thank you_ remained unsaid.

The soft tune of Gymnopédie inside himself slowly skidded to a halt, and then faded to silence.

* * *

_I am thou. Thou art I._

_I will always be with thee._

* * *

In the checkered room where reality and dreams intertwined, Naoya Toudou watched as the last vestige of Minato's identity faded away from the realm of living. He was not alone—in the presence of Philemon, no one was truly alone. But his physical representation in this plane at least made his presence a little more concrete. It also helped him to start conversation, and in particular, about a certain young man who had given himself up to stave away humanity's death wish.

"Your Rook served its purpose," he started, prompting a conversation that might bit him back in the end. It was always dangerous to make comments about the game with this entity, especially when he himself knew that this entity moves the world. Of all things, Naoya might comment about recruiting another Wild Card, and Philemon might just do that despite his words being a joke. Then, he would say that it's Naoya’s responsibility.

"True." A heavy silence hung in the air, "But not without sacrificing my Bishop."

Naoya let out a hollow chuckle, images of Hamuko’s young face flashed in his head, along with her possible futures. But she's dead and that pathway would forever be locked down. For Philemon to note her only as a bishop, it was outrageous. To him, she was never the Bishop; she was the Queen: the key to victory, the whisperer of King, and the mover of empire. She was the Fool, the favored one; she should be valued as more than just _a bishop_.

"Surely you have enough pawns to cover your missing Bishop. Hell, I have even introduced you another piece to the game... only because he deemed her worthy."

The man turned towards Naoya, his expression mirrored Naoya’s face perfectly, "She'll make a fine Knight. But for now, let us focus to the other pawns."

Images of a small city flashed through his mind, and with it, a silver-haired teen that he knew. Naoya’s violet eyes gleamed dangerously. "You're set to turn him into a Queen."

The idea made him nauseous, because there would be another journey set for that boy (another Fool) and who knew how much blood would be spilled, how many battles would they have to wage against their common enemy—there were simply too many variables to maintain.

"Only because _he_ introduced more pieces to the board," he looked back at Naoya, his cold and calculating brown eyes a reminiscence of his life before his immortality. "We're strained enough as it is," when Philemon gazed at him, it felt like ice cold water washed over his being--a reminder of what had came to pass, "you who have witnessed humanity's history from its dawn, Naoya Toudou, tell me this: is humanity at the peak of its potential? Have order triumphed, so far?"

Naoya bit back his tongue, knowing all too well that even the subconsciousness of the people yearned for chaos. Erebus was one of the proofs.

Philemon turned around, his back facing the young man, "it does not matter if I were to lose this game; fate will turn, time will move forward, new pieces will enter, but humanity will forever be set back from enlightenment. If you really want to better humanity's fate, Naoya Toudou, I advise you remember the reason you've given me when you decide to enter. Remember the price that you paid. Remember the lengths you'd promised me to go."

Naoya’s feature tensed slightly as images of his past quickly flashed before him—the faces of Velvet Room's denizens, the friends he fought with, the demon world that descended unto the living world, the price he had paid—everything that he had sacrificed to gain the power and right to dwell in this realm. 

"Humanity's fate might as well rest on your shoulder, my Knight. Choose your strategy wisely. "

Philemon disappeared in swirls of thousand butterflies, leaving the young man alone.

Naoya’s violet eyes gleamed with sorrow, the thought of Philemon’s eventual plan trapped him in self-loathing. As his violet eyes settle on the image of Yu Narukami, he whispered, "Forgive me, Hamuko. I might as well drag your other friend into battle once more."

In betwixt of reality and dreams, Naoya Toudou felt the air shifted for a moment as he heard giggles of a familiar young woman. Perhaps it was just his imagination, but Naoya really believed that, for one moment, that young woman had given him her blessing. The young man closed his eyes, mouthed a "thank you," and let the image of Yu Narukami in front of him flickered to nonexistence.

It was time to start the game, again.

_And so, fate chooseth her champion once more._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And... that's all folks! But first, I'd like to spread some interesting bits about the tarot spread that Naoya had picked for Minato one by one.
> 
>   * The spread which Naoya use to tell about Minato's story is the [5-cards spread](http://imworld.aufeminin.com/dossiers/D20111010/5-card-spread-133808_L.jpg). Though traditionally, the one being read is supposed to shuffle and pick their cards independently, it was Naoya who does so, which signify his own fate intertwining with Minato's. Hence, the gesture is meant to deliver Naoya's experience and how it relates to Minato.
>   * The cards are read from Minato's direction. Traditionally, it should have been read from Naoya's direction (since it revolves around Naoya's predicaments), but I say 'meh' just to dramatize the whole thing.
>   * The World at the center represents completion of a journey. Well, the team did complete their journey, and Minato had found the meaning of life (despite forgetting about it altogether, but okay...). Also, Naoya's objectives are also met when Minato completed his destined task.
>   * The Death on the left side represents past; Death usually represents drastic changes or sudden end, unlike The Judgement. For Minato, it actually represents at least two things: his own death and resurrection (and ever since then, his life was never the same), and then Pharos/Ryoji as the harbinger of death.
>   * The Fool on the right side represent the future; another journey awaits, though this time, the main Fool would no longer be Minato himself. This is a reference to P3:FES -The Answer-.
>   * The Devil on the bottom side represents the cause of current situation; The Devil is generally thought as 'bad' even in either upright or reversed position. The card practically means base temptation and sluggishness. Though other reversed cards may represent this, such as Magician in reversed position, I think the card can be used to literally represent Nyarlathotep's interference in the past and Erebus as the manifestation of humanity's death wish AKA 'the easy way out'.
>   * The Chariot on the top side represents the outcome; the conflict between order and chaos within humanity itself still rages, and the game has just begun ~~so of course, there is another fic in writing~~.
> 

> 
> If you are wondering about what Personas have Naoya lost, that would be Marduk, Airgetlam, and Amon Ra, two of which appeared in _Be True to Your Mind_ manga, while the other one is his Ultimate Persona in the game.
> 
> Alright then, folks, that's all from me for now. Thank you for bearing with me until the end!

**Author's Note:**

> To Angevon, strangestquiet, and SkylaDoragono, let it be known that if it were not for your awesome works, I would not even dare to write this.


End file.
